Footprints in the snow
by sophiesix
Summary: After an incident in the Kimberley, where child-hunting and implantations still occur, and human-Soul interaction is marked by its violence, is Flame and Alex’s relationship over? Follows Four Beginnings.
1. Chapter 1

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**Footprints in the Snow**

*****

_After an incident in the Kimberley, where child-hunting and implantations still occur, and human-Soul interaction is marked by its violence, is Flame and Alex's relationship over? Follows Four Beginnings._

_*_

AN: Ok so this is actually three stories sort of back to back, because they make really not much sense unless they are read that way. So it's not just one horribly long story! It's ok!

The three stories are Footprints in the sand, Wind in the city, and Tracks in the snow, so I've called the conglomerate Footprints in the Snow. Enough blather.

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**Footprints in the sand**

*****

_Everything in the desert leaves tracks. Even the wind. The desert is full of tracks, telling us about all the animals around us, even when they were long gone, or just hiding around the corner where we can't see them._

Flame has been captured with a human group by Seekers in the Kimberley, where child-hunting and implantations still occur, and human-Soul interaction is marked by its violence. But when rescue comes, she finds everything is not what is hoped for.

**Warnings: strong violence ch 3.**

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1.

I had thought I was saved when the humans had attacked the Seeker camp. I thought they were coming to free us. We had been captured whilst out on a hunting trip, helicopters surrounding us out of nowhere, whipping up the sand between the spinifex til we were blinded. As a Soul, I had gotten off lightly, and was allowed my freedom: the others were locked up to be processed. And here in the Kimberley, wild human implantation was still alive and well. I could only be thankful that none of my family had been with me.

And then the Seeker camp had been attacked. I remember them riding bareback through the scrub like braves, appearing out of the dust the vehicles had stirred up on the road. They flooded the camp and vanished again in seconds, like a willy-willy whipping through the bush. But seconds was all it took to search the place, grab me and the others, and be gone before the Seekers could organize a defense. It was beautiful. They had even paint-bombed the cameras.

I could see Alex urging his horse towards me, and I stood still in the swirling dust to make it easier for him to aim. His face was deadly serious, its intensity making a thrill run through my blood. For a crazy second I thought he was going to run me down beneath the sun hardened hooves, but then his hand grabbed my arm and swung me up onto the horse. He spun the horse hard, making our escape, and soon the hooves were thundering across the savannah, carrying us to safety.

Or so I thought. His arm remained viciously tight on my arm, slipping down to my wrist so he didn't have to do twist on the horse's back to hold me on. I thought he was just being careful, making sure he had me. But I wasn't going anywhere, and was stuck to him like glue.

He said nothing throughout the ride back to the caves, but even then I didn't realize anything was amiss, thinking he was worried about pursuit, listening for the thud of the Seeker helicopter swinging down though the sky and herding us away.

But when we got back to the caves he pulled me off the horse and dumped me on the ground, and I began to realize that something was very wrong. I thought he was just angry to have lost me. I didn't realise how right I was.

***

"Where is Flame?" Alex said, his face rigid as he stared me down an inch from mine. I could count the beads of sweat on his face, the depth of fury in his eyes, the stoniness of his jaw. My chin trembled, but I knew by now I had no answer that would satisfy him. I had run out of ways of trying to tell him. Nonetheless I took a breath, half sob and half courage and whispered again.

"I am Flame."

His fist came for me but Blackheath caught it and eased him back.

"You don't want to frighten them too much," he muttered to Alex, "you can lose them…"

Alex twisted out of his grip.

"This is a Seeker. You should see what they got up to on the Fire World," he spat, advancing on me like a bull dog "they can take Hell." He didn't stop til he was right in my face again.

"You hunted those children down and took them for implantation! Flame would never do that!"

"I didn't-"

His fist smacked my face.

"We saw you! We fucking saw you! Stop lying!"

But I hadn't.

I stretched my jaw where he'd hit it, easing out the ache.

"I'm not lying," I muttered, "I am Flame. You're Alex, he's Blackheath. You're, you're also Hawkmoth, Dukh, Prizrak-"

"Stop using her memories! You get out of her head! You hear me? Stay out of her memories!"

What could I say to that? I was already there. I'd lived through them. There was no taking them back.

"Give it a rest for a minute," Blackheath said, pulling Alex away as he twisted round to glare at me.

The heat of the Kimberley sun bounced reflected off the red rock of the canyon walls and filled the space with a glowing ruby light. I remember thinking it beautiful when I first came, but now it just reminded me of blood. I sagged at the base of the rock wall, closing my eyes against the heat, not sure whether I was more relieved or miserable to see them go.

He thought I had been removed and another Soul implanted. Everyone thought that. And no matter what I said or did, I couldn't convince them otherwise. It was unbelievable; he wanted so desperately to find me, and I was right in front of him. Tears of frustration pricked at my eyes. I didn't know what else I could do to convince him. And I was becoming afraid of the lengths he would go to get me back. I wished I could just wake up out of this nightmare and we could go and stay with Bhask like we'd planned.

We were only supposed to be here for a week or two. We'd come to visit the human camps because of the enduring human-Soul conflict here. It was unusual in that implantations still occurred and any non-violent contact between human and Souls was minimal, making everyone unsure how a resolution could be reached. Blackheath had made the connection to get us in, and he and Dorsey had joined us on the visit. Just a few weeks in the savannah, then on to see Bhask and Maddy on the East coast for a month. I hadn't seen him in ages, and couldn't wait to see them and their new place.

But those plans seemed far away now. Now, I wasn't even allowed to see Yash. Now, I was kept in a blind canyon that split out from the cave complex, where they kept injured horses sometimes, when they weren't running free through the long grass, looking for all the world like wild horses never touched by man. I imagined having a little foal to soothe my touch-starved hands on, or a lame nag to keep me company at night. But all I had was a seep of water that filled a corner in the sand; otherwise, the space was bare. Just sand and rock and a twisting sliver of sky where the tortured walls almost met again at the top. I stared at that blue sliver like it was freedom. If only I could see Yash… just for a second…

"Hi," an uncertain voice said, rousing me. _Dorsey_. I looked at her, half in hope, half in fear that she would be the same as Alex. "I'm Dorsey."

"I know." She didn't believe me either then. And if Dorsey didn't believe me, what hope had I with Alex? But she kept looking at me, her eyes still uncertain, like she hadn't decided yet. It was enough to keep hope flickering within me, despite my promise to myself not to raise them anymore. I was sick of the ache of having them smashed to the ground.

"You have all her memories, then."

"Most of them," I muttered. I didn't have a photographic memory.

"Alex thinks you are pretending to be Flame."

_I'm not_, I thought, but I knew by now the futility of repeating it. I said nothing.

"Dorse, is Yashie ok?"

"Yashie?" She looked at me indecisively.

"Please just tell me."

"Yeah… she's fine."

"Thank you," I whispered, digging my hand into the sand. I missed her so much.

But then Alex walked in, his fists clenching automatically at the sight of me.

"Dorsey!" His whole body said _get away from her_! She got up and walked over to him slowly.

"You didn't show her Yashie?" he said quietly, and I pretended I couldn't hear, rolling over and facing the wall.

"No, she's still with Ally. You hit her?"

"She won't talk. Did she tell you what they did with Flame?"

She shook her head "Maybe she doesn't know."

"She never says she doesn't know," he said, his voice weighed with hate.

"Maybe she is Flame," she said quietly, almost a whisper.

"Dorsey…"

"What if she is, Alex? How can you be so sure?" Dorsey persisted despite his irritation.

"Flame never would have taken those children," he said so low I almost missed it, and the next part came out lower, almost reluctantly, "And if she did, I wouldn't want to know her anyway."

My heart shrank and twisted to a strip of leather, and my blood stopped flowing. Even if I did manage to convince him I was me… he didn't want to know me anyway. What was the point?

But I couldn't let myself believe it. Not my Alex. I had to find a way to convince him. And the only way I could think of was to stay here, no matter what he did to me, til he had no other choice but to believe me. He couldn't hold out forever. I would wear him down… but even as I thought this, I felt like the ground was disintegrating around my feet. _He wouldn't want to know me anyway_…

The shadows deepened in the canyon, and I could see the others gathering together round a fire inside the caves, sharing their evening meal. I wondered if Yashie was in there too. My arms ached to feel her within them. Even just to see her, mashing up her food, her funny beautiful little smile.

I knew I would be given something to eat on my own when everyone else was done. And I knew I would eat it even if I wasn't hungry, to keep my strength up. The only thing I hungered for was for my family to recognize me. Everything else tasted like dust.

***

I dreamt of the children that night. The younger two, their crying silenced, frozen in time by the cold storage process. The elder boy, still struggling as I brought him up to the cold storage tanks, his eyes widening at the sight of his younger siblings through the clear covers, still as museum specimens. But he saw his distress reflected in my eyes, and gave me the smallest nod. I forced him into the third, empty, cold storage tank, closed the lid and activated it. Then I watched in relief as his struggling slowed and then ceased.

A presence in the dark jerked me from sleep. I peered into the blackness, half hoping and half scared it would be Alex.

"It's me. Blackheath. I just want to talk."

"Since when do you want to talk with me," I grumbled, sitting up properly and blinking the sleep and the dream away. But as usual, he didn't speak easily to me, lengthy pauses punctuating his remarks as if he were always thinking twice about talking at all.

"Alex is driving himself mental over this. You keep this up much longer and he's going to crack."

"He' already past it. He's already cracked," I mumbled unhappily.

"No, he's not. He's really angry, but he's holding on. You don't want to be there when he cracks. I don't want t be there when he cracks."

His voice was deadly serious. I couldn't understand why Blackheath was telling me this.

"Are you trying to scare me?"

I heard him breathe out sharply in frustration.

"Flame wouldn't want him to go through this."

I shook my head silently. I didn't. Of course I didn't.

"I can't do anything about it. He's the one driving himself mental. I can't make him believe me."

He was silent for a moment, and I wondered if he had crept silently away, or whether he watched me a few inches from my face. It was so dark there was no way to know.

"You're in a pretty pickle aren't you, whether you're her or not," he said, thoughtfulness creeping into his voice.

"You don't really care, do you," I said coldly.

"Well, you are a Soul. But it matters to Dorsey. And it matters to Alex. So it has to matter to me too." I was surprised by the vehemence in his tone, but I knew how much he loved Dorsey. He would do anything to prevent her getting hurt. Even put up with me.

A distant noise grew slowly louder, and we both stilled, straining to place it. Helicopters. The Seekers would be out searching for camp smoke, firelight. They would find nothing here.

"You told me once to implant myself in Alex," I said softly, testing the waters.

"Yeah…" he said guardedly. He didn't like to admit he had supported the implantation of a human. His secret was safe with me.

"If we did it again," I whispered, "he would know it was me."

I could feel him pulling away in repugnance, the night air cooler following his backdraught.

"I wouldn't suggest that if I were you," he said, and I was again surprised by him. He kept his tone almost civil, "That's not going to go down real well. Besides which, the attacks have run us out of Heal."

"Oh." I lay back down and stared at the two stars that squeezed through my sliver of sky. Well that was that then. I was all out of ideas. It was up to Alex now.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

I woke in the early morning cool by the sound of Dorsey and Alex talking softly, watching me from the cave entrance. I didn't move, pretending I slept on, but listened with every fibre.

"Yashie knew it wasn't you when you woke up," Dorsey was saying, and I recognized her quietly persuasive tone. So she still wasn't sure if I was telling the truth or not. Good ol' Dorsey.

"This is different," Alex replied, voice as hard and ungiving as ever.

"How?"

"My… my eyes would have been different…"

"Oh come on Alex, what's the risk here?"

"The risk is Yashie will get upset!"

"Well what else are you going to tell her? That her mum just left her? That she's dead? That'll be a hard one to explain when we get her back!"

Alex made no reply, and I knew he was struggling.

"Let her see for herself," Dorsey said softly, relenting, "If it's not her… at least she'll understand."

But I heard Alex get up and leave without yet replying. I wondered if this was a yes or a no. My heart stammered to think it might be a yes.

But the morning dragged on, hotter and hotter, and no one came. It wasn't til around midday, when everyone escaped from the heat through sleep, that I heard someone approaching. It was Dorsey, carrying a snoozing bundle in her arms. She laid her gently down next to me, and Yashie woke, rubbing at her eyes grumpily. I melted to see her beautiful, beautiful face.

"Mummy?" she mumbled, reaching out to touch me, as if making sure I wasn't a dream.

"Yashie… My Yash," I whispered brokenly, and she scrambled into my arms. "Oh Yash…" I pressed her into me with everything I had, but she didn't complain. For the first time since I was returned I felt whole.

"Let's go back to our cave. S'comfier there," she said, peering up at the sweltering sun. I thought longingly of our cool little hole in the rock, just enough space for Alex, Yash and me.

"Mummy has to stay here for a while," I whispered, letting my eyes roam over her and take in everything I had missed so much the past few days.

"Why?" she grumbled. I glanced at Dorsey, but she said nothing.

"Daddy wants me to." I kissed her forehead, "No more questions ok? Tell me what you've been up to."

She picked up my need for quiet and whispered out her tales of chasing lizards and locusts across the rock studded grasslands, eating animals cooked fresh on a made to measure fire, being introduced to the horses, monstrous and soft in her recollection, so they knew to treat her gently and not run from her like from other strangers.

"Tell me about your hunting trip," she whispered extra soft, hoping to get away with a very quiet question. I guessed this is where they had told her I was. It had been a long hunting trip then. _Something_ must have happened.

"We were following tracks in the sand. Tracks from animals that aren't there anymore. The desert's full of tracks, telling us about all the animals around us, even when they're long gone, or just hiding around the corner where you can't see them. Writing out little stories in the sand about them. Because if you look really hard you can tell all about them: how big they are, how heavy, where they are going and if they are in a rush to get there, and then you follow them and follow them until you find the thing that made the tracks, and see how right you are. It's the same with people you know? Every person has a different footprint, you can tell who they are by their tracks." she twisted down to inspect the bottom of my foot closely, "You can tell where they are going, how long ago, how much they are carrying, even if they are happy or sad…" I could see her settling back into snooze mode, and I settled down alongside her. "Sometime you might not see anyone for days, but you know they are there, just by the tracks they've left behind in the sand. Everything in the desert leaves tracks. Even the wind. If you watch the stars at night, you can see the tracks they leave in the sky, once you learn how to see." But she was asleep, and I gathered her precious weight into me and slept too.

"Get away from her!" Alex's shout woke us too quickly, and I was still lying down as his running boots sprayed sand in my face and he ripped Ayasha out of my arms.

"Mummy's sick," he shouted at her, "leave her alone!" And he stormed away, deaf to her cries. It felt like he had ripped my guts out, and I curled around the hole, shattered.


	3. Chapter 3

*AN: warning! This is the violent chapter.*

3.

I saw no one for a long time after that. No one even came to give me dinner. I sat with the rock wall in my back watching the darkness, listening for anyone coming my way. But no one came. A scorpion danced over the sand, hunting in the waning moonlight. My only visitor.

It was late at night when soft voices raised my head from where it had fallen onto my chest, my neck muscles cramping uncomfortably. But I didn't dare dig in my fingertips to work out the soreness til I knew what the voices meant.

"Alright?" Blackheath was murmuring.

"Alright." That was Alex.

A pause, where only darkness filled my ears. They were standing where a ledge over the entrance to the cave cast them deep in shadow. Beyond them, the embers of fire occasionally caught at their black silhouettes.

"You want me to do it?"

"No. No, I should do it." Alex sounded almost reluctant. "Just hold her down." There was no reluctance in that remark, it was pure intent. The moon was still up, and glinted silver off their faces, hard and still as they approached. My body chilled with fear.

"You know what we want. We're not going to stop til you tell us where she is," Alex said, staring at me levelly, as Blackheath took my arms and held me tight, "Where is she."

My blood stilled as Alex approached closer, his eyes deadening. He was really going to do it. He really was.

"Tell us where she is," he said evenly, taking the first joint of my index finger between his warm hands. One part of me shone with bliss that he held my hand in his, but then he began pushing carefully back on the fingertip while keeping the other parts steady, and I realized with dread they weren't bluffing. I bit my lip as the pain grew and grew, then couldn't help from letting slip a whimper. Blackheath held me still, unmoving, and still the pain grew.

"Where is she."

The pain took over everything, and then the fingertip snapped back sickeningly. I heaved in Blackheath's iron grip, spitting the blood from my mouth, my legs water, my heart fluttering like a pigeon trapped beneath a cat's claws. He had broken my finger: Alex. My Alex. The pain and fear and disbelief swirled my head dizzingly, and I gasped to breathe, trying desperately to find something steady to latch onto.

I couldn't give them what they wanted. There was no way out. Well, there was one way out. I could give up, liquefy my host's brain. But even now my heart screamed against me. I was still alive. And while I was still alive, there was still hope. Wasn't there?

Alex waited a moment, then picked up my hand again and moved his fingers to the second joint.

"Where is she."

His voice was getting harder, darker, like he was being consumed by the evil of what he was doing. I knew he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. I had nothing to give him.

I don't know how long they worked on me. My mind seemed dissolve into a world of pain and helplessness. Did I cry out? Did I struggle? I knew nothing but pain. There was nothing I could do but hold on. Hold on. _Why was I holding on_? A small voice asked, quiet at first, but then louder and louder. _Why was I holding on_? _They were going to kill me anyway_.

"Jesus Christ, Alex!" Dorsey's voice slipped through the blinding pain, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Get off her!" Blackheath released me and I slumped to the ground, not caring whether I lived or died so long as they didn't touch me. But Dorsey was pulling me up into her lap, her lips on my forehead, her hands gentle, one arm hugging me and the other cradling the wrist of the broken hand. I gazed at the twisted, destroyed fingers. Were they mine?

"Jesus Christ," she whispered under her breath, "you fucking monsters! Get me some No Pain! Where's fucking Falling Smoke when you need him?" Blackheath glanced at Alex, but he was furious.

"You keep away from that or god help me…" he spat at Dorsey.

"_Don't_ touch her," Blackheath told him, his voice very low, and very quiet.

"Then keep her Away." Alex snarled at him. But Blackheath was like a boulder in front of us, and Alex had to walk away, his eyes burning into the night.

Blackheath got the No Pain himself.

"And bandages," she muttered acidly as he handed over the No Pain, then pulled a roll of bandaging from his pocket. The pain finally started to recede, and I could start to make out a world beyond it.

"He's going to keep going, you know," Blackheath said quietly.

"Like hell he will." Dorsey wrapped each finger carefully, tenderly, shaping them back into their natural forms and then binding them to each other for support.

"They are sending all cold-storaged Souls off planet. We have to find out where they're holding her. It's our last chance," Blackheath murmured.

"What if this is her, right here?"

"What if it's not?"

"Tell me how many other Souls have taken that kind of punishment, Blackheath?"

He didn't reply.

"If he tries it again, he'll have to get through me first," Dorsey muttered.

Blackheath sat by her a moment more, considering her words, then left. I was exhausted beyond thinking, and dozed off in Dorsey's arms before she had even finished fixing me up. When I woke again it was because her body had turned to stone beneath me, screaming danger. I turned my head and saw Alex leaning arms-crossed on the rock wall, half obscured in the pre dawn shadows, watching us. Waiting.

Dorsey's voice dragged with fatigue.

"Alex. She's not giving up. You've tortured her, and she's not giving up. She's a Soul for God's sake."

"She's a Seeker."

"But even for a Seeker… None of them would put up with this. No one but Flame would. For us. Don't do this."

"We don't have any other options."

"I won't let you hurt her again."

He eased away from the wall and disappeared into the blackness of the cave. She hugged me tighter, as if suddenly cold.

"Dorsey?" I whispered.

"Right here, honey," she breathed back, "I'm right here."

"Where's Yash?"

"Don't worry about her, ok? She's fine. He's not going to hurt her. And I'll be damned if I let him hurt you again."

But Dorsey couldn't guard me forever. And I didn't seem to be able to do anything. I felt like the pain had burnt through me, and I had nothing left. It was all I could do to just exist. Even when I felt Dorsey fall asleep, her muscles profoundly slack like only a deep sleep can make them, I couldn't make myself stay more alert to compensate. Eventually I fell asleep again too, and we were as defenceless as worms under rocks.

I woke to find nothingness where Dorsey had been. She was gone. And only one pair of tracks led from the cave entrance and back. Deeper, heavier on the way back. He had taken her. Alex had taken her while she slept, and now he was coming back for me.

I had thought I was incapable of feeling anything anymore, my nerves, my brain burnt out. But raw fear arced through me as I saw him approach. He said nothing but picked up my hand. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, just stared at him in horror as he examined Dorsey's handiwork. He could do nothing more with my fingers, Dorsey had bound them well. So he moved on to my wrist, folding it close to my arm and enclosing it in his hands.

"Where is she."

There was nothing I could do. Just as I remembered, the pain grew, slowly at first, then more swiftly, searing up my arm, until my wrist snapped inside his hands. The pain seemed to blaze through my whole body, burning away sight and hearing for a minute. I was screaming, I could feel the rawness of my throat, but I couldn't hear myself. I was lost in my world of pain.

He took my elbow next, bending it carefully into position, then putting his weight on it.

"Where is she."

The pressure on my elbow was unbearable. I knew it wouldn't hold out much longer. He would break it. And I wouldn't be able to hold my Yash. My Yash… and then something inside me broke.

"Fuck off Alex!" I screamed in his face through the tears, with everything I had left, "_Fuck off_!"

He let me go suddenly and I jerked my arms between my knees, guarding them, sobbing.

"Shit," I heard him whisper, stilled.

He backed up and sat against the wall, watching me. So long he didn't touch me he could look as long as he liked.

I don't know how long he watched me cry, but after a while I noticed he wasn't there. And sometime after that, my tears had dried up, and I was sitting alone in the cavern, gasping for breath like an eel on dry land. Another time, another person would have run for it, but I did nothing. I couldn't do anything anymore. Eventually my breathing began to slow a little.

A hand touched my arm and I flinched away from it.

"Flame, it's me; Dorsey," she said softly, "ok?"

I tried vaguely to focus on her, but her form and her concept were hazy in my mind.

"I've got the No Pain," she said. This I understood. I let her give it to me, and her form clarified before me. I had forgotten what it was like not to shake. Even the No Pain only lessened the trembling.

"Where's Yash?" I whispered. All I could think of was to hold her in my arms. Hold her and hold her and hold her tight.

"She's safe, she's still out digging. She doesn't know about any of this." Her arm went out to hug my shoulders and I cringed beneath it.

"Please don't touch me," I hissed.

"Ok," she whispered, drawing back, her voice aching to comfort me. "Will you let me look at your wrist?"

I thought about it, looking for the trick, but ran out of energy , and let my knee drop to the floor so she could see it.

"Oh boy," she breathed.

"Can I see Yashie?" I murmured. I was so tired…

"Sure. I just want to do something about that wrist first, ok?"

"No."

"Flame?" her hand was hovering near my shoulder again.

"Don't touch me!"

"Sorry. I'm, I'm not going to hurt you. I think that wrist should be put in a more normal position. Kinda soon." She was watching me, like she needed a response. "Ok?"

"Don't touch it. I just want to see Yash."

"Ok."

"And go to sleep," I murmured, blinking slowly.

"Alright…"

"Have we got any Sleep?" My voice seemed to come from further and further away.

"Uh… I think so."

"I want to Sleep."

She watched me, her gaze full of worry, for a moment.

"I don't want to leave you alone," she whispered. I continued to stare at the ground in response.

"I'm going to go get Yash, and the Sleep, and come right back. You hang in there, ok?"

I nodded.

I don't know how long she was gone for. I couldn't measure time anymore. I just knew when her footsteps padded through the sand towards me, weighted down with a child.

"Mummy's hurt her wrist," Dorsey explained to her, "we need to be really gentle, ok?"

"Did you fall?" Yash asked.

"Yes, I fell," I murmured, pulling her into my lap with my good arm and holding her close, wrapping myself around her, blocking out the rest of the world. _My Yashie_...

"When you're asleep, and you can't feel anything, can I set your wrist then?" Dorsey whispered.

"Ok," I said, closing my eyes and resting my head on Yash's. She could do what she liked. I didn't care anymore.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dorsey's voice was suddenly sharp, and I struggled to understand.

"Seeker camp." Blackheath's voice.

"Crazy bastard!! Oh god, you didn't go and collect another Soul did you?"

"No, it was empty. I got these. Seeker reports. It details everything they did with them. There's no mention of implantation. But there's this:

The Soul captured with the group alleges she is a Seeker, undercover. It is difficult to know whether to believe her. She is concerned for the welfare of the others, and this could be attributed to a bond formed between workmates. There is concern that she may have turned. She has been included on a mission to collect three wild children. Her actions during the mission may shed more light on the question of her loyalty.

And I checked the user log. Flame read this. She knew they were watching her. She had to perform with those kids."

"She still wouldn't have implanted them," Dorsey murmured.

"I didn't," I whispered. There was a silence, and I opened my eyes a little. They were looking at me, waiting.

"What happened then?" Dorsey asked softly. I could see what had happened in my head. But it was so much effort to put it into words.

"I thought I could help them," I whispered, then winced, remembering Alex hitting me when I had said these words to him. He had thought I meant improve them; implant them, but I didn't. I began to weep, knowing then that I had lost the Alex I knew forever.

"I tried to talk to the eldest one…I told him about the cold storage…" I struggled to continue but I couldn't form the words through the tears. I felt Dorsey's arm snake around me, and this time I let it stay. She gave me the Sleep and I began to calm, being pulled into its soft clutches.

"I don't know," I whispered as I drifted off, "I don't know what happened to them."


	4. Chapter 4

4 .

When I woke we were in the car; I was lying on the back seat, Yash cradled around my head. Dorsey drove with a single minded determination, and I watched the deserts slip and the mountains ease past the windows.

"Where are we going?"

"South," she said. _To the Mixed Zone_, I thought.

"Good," I murmured, turning back to the seat and going back to sleep.

***

I told Dorsey what happened with the three kids when we were curled on either side of a campfire, the bush deep and dark around us. Dorsey preferred camping out than finding hotels. You never knew who was coming for you in a hotel. It was so easy to get trapped. Out here, the odds were more even.

"The Seekers took me out to take the kids. I went after the eldest, leaving the younger two to the others. I made sure there was a bit of distance between us and the others before I caught him. I wanted the time to talk to him. I told him they were going to be put into cold storage and then implanted. I told him I had changed the settings on his cold storage unit so that he wouldn't be stored. He would have to pretend though. Then, when it was safe, he could get out and get the others out. Just hit the green buttons. Then the other Seekers were catching up with us, and I told him to struggle, like he was a really wild one. That way, when he pretended he was unconscious, they wouldn't be suspicious, they wouldn't look too closely."

My tale trailed to an end.

"Then what happened, Flame?" Dorsey asked softly.

"I don't know. The humans attacked, and they took me. I don't know what happened after that."

***

The Healing Centre had large windows that let in huge white views of the building opposite, reflecting in the sunlight. Dorsey was silhouetted against the glass, talking on her phone. I pretended to still be asleep, staying silent, enjoying Yash's sleeping warmth next to me, loving this time just after waking when you didn't have to think yet.

"No, she just wants to sleep. Or go home."

I knew by the softness of her tone it was Blackheath.

"She won't even let me say your name. How's Bhask?"

Alex then. My insides were instantly cold, and I worked to keep my head clear. I wondered why she was she speaking to Alex as if she had forgiven him.

"Have you told him?" She frowned and rubbed the back of her fingernail against the glass. "You should tell him."

He was staying with Bhask? And he hadn't told him what he'd done? My stomach curdled at the thought of the cock and bull story he had strung to Bhask to justify why I wasn't there. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Alex, if you don't-" But she stopped, cut off. "Alright." There was unhappiness and resignation in her tone.

"Can you come over here?"

My chest tightened at just the concept.

"I don't know, she's scaring me, I think if you could talk to her-"

But it seemed Alex was no more enamoured of the concept than me.

"I spose. …Yeah, ok."

My chest slowly eased back into normal breathing.

"Fine. Bye."

I kept my eyes closed against the world. I couldn't have named what I was fighting against at the time, but I was engulfed by the deepest sense of betrayal. I couldn't think of it long enough to be able to name it, because to think of it at all was to drown in it. And I couldn't bear drowning.

***

The Healer came round to check on my hand. Finger surgery was complex, and delicate, and she wanted to check that I had enough function back. Her team had done a good job, and my hand was near perfect. It would be perfect, once the tissues settled down a bit.

"The nerves always take the longest to Heal. It might a few weeks to feel and move like it used to. But you'll get there," she said. Her gentle Soul voice was wonderfully comforting. I knew I was amongst people who would never hurt me, no matter what. Even if they didn't know who I was. Even if they suspected I was someone they didn't like. I never wanted to go near a human zone again.

"Have you talked to a Comforter?" the Healer asked, "Injuries like these, they take a bit of getting over."

Dorsey had given her the edited version. It was no use pretending it wasn't torture. Dorsey told her it was random wild humans, a hit and run job.

"Yes," I lied blandly. Dorsey knew better than to contradict me. I didn't want to talk about it, and Comforters were all for talk. They didn't tend to like you if you didn't talk. I didn't tend to like them, so it was better all round if we didn't meet.

"Good. Make sure you keep that up, ok? It's important."

"Sure."

"You lying turd," Dorsey hissed as soon as the Healer had left. But I ignored her and she left it at that.

***

"Put me through to Seeker Jackson, please, it's Hungry Flame."

"Jackson?" his voice said, sounding so normal and unimpressed. It warmed my heart.

"Hi, I'm, uh, I'm coming home earlier than I thought."

"Alright…"

"I hurt my hand."

"Great."

"Could you see if I can be on light duties as soon as I get back?"

"Holiday was that good, huh? Keen to hit the ground running?"

"Yeah."

"You're not, uh… you're not running from something in particular, are you?"

"No." But I couldn't lie so blatantly to my partner. "Well,… Alex."

The word burned like acid in my mouth.

"Ah. Right. I'll get the ball rolling at this end."

"Thanks, Jackson." That's what I liked about Jackson. Everything was business. Namby-pamby family stuff just didn't come into his mindscape at all.

"No problem. Hey, you haven't been involved in this Kimberley business have you?"

"What Kimberley business?"

"You're kidding me? It's huge! Some humans attacked some Seekers out hunting their kids, and the international press got a hold of it, and the government has done a back flip on implantations over the pressure. There even sending all their stored Souls off-planet!"

"Oh, yeah, I did hear a bit about that."

"A bit? Must have been some holiday."

"See you when you get back."

"See ya."

I noticed Dorsey leaning against the wall behind me as I hung up, her expression forbidding.

"You're going back to work? Straight away?"

"I want to."

"Flame-"

"I'm fine," I said defensively.

"Honey, you are so not fine. Alex-"

The hated word made my temper snap.

"I know what he did, ok?" I breathed a while to speak more fairly to her, "I just want to go home."

"What if Alex comes home too?" she said quietly.

"If he comes home I'll move."

"You want me to tell him that?"

"Dorsey-" we'd been through this. I didn't want to talk to him, or about him, or about anything vaguely related to him. She was free to do what she pleased, so long as she kept me out of it.

"Fine. Sorry," she muttered. But she never gave up on trying to get me to face what had happened. That, she told me, was what were sisters were for. I disagreed. Sisters were for saving you from what happened. And that meant keeping you away from it, mentally as well as physically. "Why don't you stay with Bhask for a while."

"No, Dorsey, I don't want to stay with Bhask, I just want to go home," I made each word slow and clear. She frowned at the window for a while.

"Then I'm coming with you."


	5. Wind in the city ch 1

**Wind in the city**

*****

_You can't track anyone in the city. The wind is the only one that knows where you are._

Flame returns to the city to concentrate on Seeker work. But Alex won't let her forget what happened in the Kimberley, and before. As she searches for a missing Soul, she has to find the line between getting on with her life and succumbing to her emotions.

* * *

1.

"Ah, Flame? I'm getting something you might want to have a look at here?"

"What is it?"

Seeker Headquaters was buzzing with last minute Friday afternoon action. You're trying to tie up your cases for the week, catch up on the paperwork, timing it just perfect so you'll miss the Friday night traffic, and sure enough, something explosive will land in your lap. Friday afternoon bombshell. Guaranteed to ruin your weekend.

This one was particularly memorable.

"An arrest warrant. For Alex Flynt."

I hadn't seen Alex in months. Not since the Kimberley. And I tried hard not to remember that. I certainly hadn't put out a warrant for him, though I could have, and had him stored, if I wanted to.

"What for?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Just another perp. But all the while my chest was tight with trying not to think, and not succeeding. Slips of fear kept creeping from behind my block, sending stuttering rhythms round my heart. _He is not here_, I told myself, _You are safe_.

"Involvement in Crimes Against Souls. From the Southern Zone. Looks like he's landing here in an hour."

My heart stopped momentarily, but then the craziness of the charges got the better of me. What crimes against Souls? I was the only Soul he'd ever touched. Oh, except Falling Smoke. He had pulled a gun on him. Oh, and hit him. But that was ages ago… Could it be some kind of set-up by one of Blackheath's cronies? I just wanted to forget it ever happened, that either of them had ever existed. Today, it seemed, that was not going to be possible.

"You want in?" Jackson asked, leaning over the desk towards me.

"No," I said finally, "but I want to be there when you take him." _I think_. My strongest urge was to put as much distance between us as possible, but beneath that, there was still a pull. I told myself I was just curious to see if he would run, if he would resist arrest, if he would pull out a weapon and mow down the assembled hundreds of innocents travelling from a to b. That sounded like Alex as I'd known him last.

***

Jackson drove to the airport, leaving me to my thoughts. I had gotten used to him driving after I had hurt my hand, and hadn't yet bothered to break him out of the habit. Besides, today, I was more than preoccupied. Suddenly I remembered I was supposed to pick Yash up from school, and dialed Dorsey, swearing softly. Preoccupied was right. Too preoccupied to remember my own daughter.

"Hi Dorse, can you pick up Yash today?"

"Sure, what's up?"

I thought about telling her. For a whole second.

"Just going to be a bit late."

"No problem. You haven't forgotten the parent teacher evening, have you?"

"Ugh, right. Meet you there?"

"See you."

"Look I'm not really into the touchy feely stuff, I know I can count on Merry for that," Jackson started, and I clamped up automatically. Where was this coming from? Jackson I could usually trust to leave me alone. I already had Dorsey to nag me til the cows came home. Maybe if I just ignored him.

"…And it's not like Alex is my most favourite guy in the world…" he went on, and I realized he was going to need to be restrained, "but you and Alex…"

"Leave it."

"Sure. No problem. It's just that, ever since you got back, you've been… touchy."

"I Hurt my Hand."

"Yeah, no, apart from that. What happened between you guys over there?"

"We had a disagreement," I muttered, concentrating hard out the window. One more remark and I swore I'd call him Merry. Or Dorsey. I wondered which would annoy him more.

"That's it?"

I nodded.

"Ok. Remind me never to disagree with you."

***

We waited on the second floor mezzanine, right on the balustrade where we'd have a good view of the exit gate. And, I was hoping, Alex wouldn't see us. There were hundreds of places to look in the arrivals terminal, hundreds of people strolling back and forth: there was no reason he should look up here. Still, I was nervous as if I were ID'ing a killer.

Then there he was.

He walked out the exit door like he was just another passenger. Like he was normal. Then six Seekers burst out around him and he was being pushed to the floor, wrists cuffed behind his back. He lay flat on the floor, not even straining against the cuffs.

"Done," Jackson said, "easy."

I nodded, watching them lift him to his knees and search him. I think I was still waiting for him to resist, Hulk-like. I hoped it wasn't because some part of me was feasting my eyes at the sight of him. Because that _would_ be crazy.

"Are we going, then, or do you want his autograph?"

"We're gone."

***

I pulled into the school car park and searched for a spot amongst all the other parent's cars crowding the lot. Finally I got one as someone was leaving, and hurried in.

"Hey," Dorsey called softly, and Yash slipped off her lap and ran over to me.

"Have I missed anything?" I whispered, sliding into the seat next to her and hugging Yash hello.

"No, we're still in the queue."

Thank God. I didn't want any more attention on my parenting or lack thereof.

"Her progress has not been as good as last semester," the Teacher said when we reached the front of her queue. Dorsey and Yash settled at a smaller table, colouring, while I sat with the Teacher at her desk. "I understand her father is no longer resident?"

I had no wish to go any further on that topic, but saw no way to avoid it. I steeled myself to deal with it.

"That's right."

"How is that affecting her, do you think?"

I got the idea the teacher knew all the answers already, and was just wanting to see if I did. It made me think harder about my answers, making sure she couldn't fault me.

"She misses him," I said finally. I'd never talked to her about it, but I knew she must.

"Of course she does." As I had suspected, the Teacher knew the answer already. "Is there likely to be contact in the future?"

"I… I don't know." He was in the country now. Technically. But contact… that would depend on whether the judge said guilty or not. The charges were storage worthy. If he was found guilty, no one would ever see him again.

"That sort of uncertainty can be very worrying for a child."

"I see. Well, next time I see him I'll be sure to let him know." I got the idea the Teacher didn't like my tone. Human teachers were always so much harder to bluff. She paused for a moment, then decided to speak her mind.

"I hope you don't blame him entirely for this situation. It always takes two to make a relationship."

Dorsey sensed I was about to snap and thanked the teacher for her time and ushered me out the door.

We got home, had dinner, put Yash to bed, and all the while I said nothing about Alex. It wasn't til Yash was asleep that I sat beside Dorsey on the couch and said:

"We arrested Alex today." Like: We saw a poodle today, or canned tomatoes on sale.

She just looked at me, so I said it again.

"What for?" she said finally.

"Involvement in Crimes Against Souls," I replied, equally mildly. It took her another few seconds to swallow this.

"That's crazy."

"You don't believe me?"

"No, I'm saying that's crazy: to arrest Alex for that."

I shrugged. That was for a judge to decide.

"And that's it?"

"What?"

"You have no opinion on the matter?"

"I'm not supposed to have an opinion, I'm just supposed to do my job," I said getting up. I could feel Dorsey digging in and knew to escape before she really got going. "I'm going to bed now, g'night."

"For god's sake he's your husband; of course you're supposed to have an opinion! Did you talk to him? …Flame!"

I shut her out as my bedroom door clicked shut. But maybe her words had slipped through before the door was quite shut, because that night I did see him, in my dreams.

***

I woke up staring at the empty space beside me. I had been dreaming, about Alex, but the details had already dissolved before I was awake. I was left holding into the tails of the emotions it had dredged up. There had been fear, I think, initially, but it hadn't been mainly fear. The fear had transmuted into something else… but the last of it slipped through my fingers and was gone.

The bed felt incredibly large, and I got up and crept to Yashie's room, kneeling by her head and gazing at her, totally relaxed in the soft glow of the night light.

"Mummy?" she murmured sleepily, squinting into the dark.

"Sorry baby, didn't mean to wake you."

Her hands snaked into mine and pulled me onto her bed.

"You have a bad dream?"

"Sort of. Yeah."

"You can stay with me tonight if you want," she mumbled, sinking back into her pillow.

"Ok baby. Thanks."

"S'alright."

I squeezed in beside her, marveling at how she was shooting up from the tiny baby she had once been. As I drifted back to sleep I wondered If Alex would notice how much she had grown.


	6. Chapter two

2.

"Sorry to ruin your weekend," Jackson said without even saying hello. But who else would call at 6am on a Saturday? "We've got a case." I kissed Yashie's half-awake head.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," I told her as I went back to my room to get dressed.

"No can do, Seeker Flame, a case is a case," he said, amusement ringing in his voice.

"I wasn't talking to you," I replied coldly, sticking the phone between my cheek and shoulder and finding some clothes, "What's the deal?"

"Miss-per, young male Soul. One Alasdair."

"Right. Give me the address, I'll meet you there."

"Well actually, I could give you a lift. I'll be outside your house… right… now."

I groaned softly. "Don't you dare come in. Everyone's asleep." And by everyone I knew he understood Dorsey. All of them jumped at the chance of a Dorsey sighting. His silence made me wonder whether I had just given him more motivation to come in. "I'll be out in a sec." I slipped my mobile into my shirt pocket and pulled on some pants, leaving shoes, socks and most of my shirt buttons for the car ride.

"Morning Flame," Alida said, mooching over to me as I hurried across the dewy lawn barefoot to Jackson's waiting car.

"Hey Lida. Isn't this a bit early for you?"

"A bit late, maybe… got a case?"

"Yup," I said, sitting sideways on the passenger seat and sorting out my socks.

"I heard about Alex."

I pulled my shoes on extra hard as she watched. She got the picture and changed tack.

"When's Bhask coming for a visit?"

"I don't know, he's just got a new place by the beach. I think he's pretty settled down there."

"Oh."

"See ya, Lida."

"See ya. Good luck with the case."

***

"Why do we have to do this again?" I asked watching the horizon for a sign that the sun was starting to think about getting up.

"Because we are unassigned. Everyone else is working on the Alex Flynt case."

I could hear the reproach in his tone.

"And you'd prefer to have stayed up all night extracting confessions for that than being woken up at 5 in the morning for this, right?"

"You owe me one," he agreed.

"Right."

***

Alasdair's parents sat opposite us on the other sofa, silver eyes glinting with worry. Both people seemed to be made out of the same material; ageing, neat, scrupulously clean. Two peas in a pod. It seemed vaguely unreal at this hour. I hoped Jackson and I didn't look quite so peaish on our sofa. I'm sure we didn't. I checked surreptitiously to make sure I had done my shirt buttons up right. All good. I tried to concentrate on the job.

"Alasdair has never done anything like this before," his mother said, hands clasped white in her lap, back very straight, "It's very worrying." His father glanced at her and tried a small smile that was meant to be comforting.

"No idea where he might have gone?" Jackson asked, making only the vaguest effort to hide his tiredness. I wondered for a split second what he had been doing last night.

"We tried his friends…" they shook their heads.

"How has he been at home?" I asked. Souls often responded better to me. Jackson was best for playing bad cop, bringing in the pressure.

"Fine," his mother said, a little surprised at the question.

"At school?" Jackson dug. There was a delicate pause.

"He did have a little trouble at school, recently," the father said, swallowing with visible difficulty.

"He got into a fight," his mother whispered. I couldn't help but stare. A Soul? Get into a fight? Surely not an actually punch-up fight? His mother caught my expression.

"There were humans involved," she squeezed her eyelids and smiled apologetically, avoiding Jackson's non-silver eyes, "He's never done anything like that before. There's been a lot of new students at the school you see. _Humans_. It used to be such a good school."

"Do you know what the fight was about?" I asked while Jackson pointedly ignored the human jab.

"Oh, some human girl I think."

"Did he like her?"

"I shouldn't think so." The idea of a Soul liking a human was obviously crazy. I was thinking maybe they had the right idea. "The others would have been just looking for a fight."

"Do you remember the names of who else was involved?" Jackson said, stylus ready.

"Oh, the school handled it all… I think it was… Diaz, was it, the other boy involved?" His parents looked at each for support.

"Diaz… I think you're right," his father nodded, and Jackson marked it down. A lead. So far it was the only one we had.

"May we see his room?" I asked, and they led us upstairs.

His bedroom was alone on the second floor, with a bathroom and some storage space for company. _His parents would have no idea what he was doing up here_, I thought. It was a generous space, two large windows, a single bed. Bare, pastel walls. Bare, pastel dresser. Everything neat, clean, almost bare of personality. His bed didn't look like anyone had slept in it, ever.

"He always changed his sheets on Fridays," his mother said softly, smoothing the duvet wistfully.

"Is it always like this?" I asked, searching for any trace of the teenager who lived here.

She looked around anxiously, looked for what was wrong. She nudged a few things on his desk back to exact perpendicularity.

"Yes…?" she answered finally, and I had to smile at her, letting her feel at ease. It was not fair that she should worry about her son's neatness when his physical presence was in question. There were more important things to worry about. Jackson went to look out the widow and I picked up a photo framed by his bedside: Mum Dad and two boys. She looked at it over my shoulder, resting her finger on the other boy, the older, edgier, non-Alasdair one.

"We had another son… but it didn't work out."

I waited, but she made me ask, "What do you mean; didn't work out?"

Her finger trembled a little and she clasped her hands together again.

"The, ah, the human was strong in him." I could feel myself drawing away from her. I could see how a human child would not fit well into their careful, neat lives, especially any kind of active, boisterous, rebellious one. One like Dorsey. _But he had been their son_… surely they had loved him anyway? I saw the pain in her eyes as answer to my question. But perhaps it had not been enough. I forced myself to stay professional, and looked at her encouragingly. It felt like lying.

"We had him implanted but…" she sighed, putting the picture down, "he fought it and… it didn't work out." He would have considered un-implantable. By the looks of the picture, it would have been pre-moratorium. The host would have been disposed of… but parents wouldn't do that to their son? Surely they would let him live… but at the time, where? I didn't see them tracking down wild human groups. There had been no cold storage. He would have been considered a failed insertion, neat and simple.

"Maybe we were too hard on him…" she whispered, and her husband took her hand and squeezed it. His hand holding hers trapped my gaze for a moment. It seemed so loving a gesture, and it surprised me as if I hadn't contemplated such a thing in a while. Then her voice snapped me out of it.

"I guess that's why we've been a bit more relaxed with Alasdair."

"We had him implanted as early as possible," his father added, "It's made all the difference I think."

I struggled to find something in common with these people; wanting to implant their own child. But it was their choice, still. They had had Alasdair for the explicit purpose of housing a Soul. I couldn't help but feel the loss of the other little life he had replaced. Their home felt like a house of death, but I knew that was just me. Jackson was entirely unaffected by the conversation. I envied him his imperviousness.

I needed air. It was too early in the morning for this, and I hadn't slept well last night. I made an excuse to go back downstairs and let Jackson handle the minutiae. I paused at a photo of Alasdair, smiling happily with his parents, no sign of the missing elder brother. Perhaps he had never really known this elder brother. Perhaps the family's dark past was all in my reading of it, and Alasdair was a perfectly happy well adjusted teenager. But then, he was missing. Something wasn't right. And fighting; something was definitely not right.

"So he didn't come home last night," Jackson said, shrugging as he got into the car, "He's 18. It's not exactly a crime. Hasn't even been 24 hours yet."

If Bhask hadn't come home, would I worry? Of course I would worry. But Bhask was human, lived in a volatile country, and might have his own Diaz after him. What could Alasdair have to fear?

"Talk to the school?" Jackson offered.

I nodded, "Talk to this Diaz character."

The school principal was having breakfast when we joined him, but the hum-drum of daily lives was no protection from the Law. And, kind Soul that he was, he was only too glad to help, whatever the hour. He even offered us croissants.

"Alasdair didn't come home last night," I explained, while Jackson contentedly took a second croissant.

"How upsetting," the principal said, frowning sincerely, "His parents must be hysterical." I doubted Alasdair's parents did hysterical.

"Yes. Can you tell us when you last saw him?"

"I don't see the students on a daily basis I'm afraid." He looked disappointed about that, though whether in general or just because it did not help us I couldn't be sure. Probably both.

"But you can tell us if he was in class yesterday?" Jackson pressed.

"There was a school excursion yesterday. I can check the roll call…"

I remembered Bhask talking about how he and his friends would routinely cover for each other's absences by calling out in their place at roll call. It was too easy to fudge. It would tell us nothing.

"His parents said he was involved in some sort of fight?" I asked.

"Well, according to the witnesses, he started it. Very unusual. Especially for Alasdair. Of course the witnesses were all human, but Alasdair didn't deny it."

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"Apparently he walked up to Diaz and shoved him to the ground. Diaz reacted… physically."

"Diaz?" Jackson asked, stylus in hiatus til the details were clarified.

"Munro Diaz," the principal replied obligingly, "One of the new intake. Human."

"And Alasdair just walked up to him? No provocation?"

"There was some talk of Alasdair being jealous of Diaz and his girlfriend Lily."

"Lily…"

"Lily Provis. Same intake. I think Alasdair thought Lily might be more partial to him. A misunderstanding, I'm sure: Lily stood by Diaz's account. I've seen Diaz and Lily together often enough at recess, and they've always seemed very… close." I understood this to mean _very _close. Excesses of emotion of any kind were slightly awkward for Souls.

"Diaz and Lily," I said, fitting these elements into my mental picture.

"Yes. They all came from the South Soul-free zone. Diaz is friends with Lily's brothers."

Our South soul-free zone was much smaller than Blackheath's, half a world away, but had the same frictions and powerplays that dispossessed people or chased them out from time to time. Being surrounded by Soul territory, the refugees had no choice but to fight for their lives or go to the Mixed zones. It seemed Diaz and Lily's families had been amongst such a group.

"Diaz has never been involved in violence before?"

"The humans have their routine scuffles, you can't avoid it I don't think. But they know they have to behave here. And for the most part, they toe the line."

The principal found Diaz's address for us and we left him to his jam and croissants.

***

Munro Diaz sat opposite us on a chair, agitated. Because he had a Soul in his apartment, or because of something else? The apartment was small, one main room, one single bed in the corner, kitchen opposite. What I would call barely furnished, and what Jackson would approvingly call masculinely furnished. It was obvious he lived alone. I wondered what had happened to his family.

I wondered if he was related to Maddy's Diaz. They had similar backgrounds, from the South, anti-Soul. I had the impression they looked similar too, but it had been dark, and I had been hiding: I could be imagining a similarity. There were probably hundreds of Southern anti-Soul Diaz's walking around.

"We're working on the case of a missing soul, Alasdair-" Jackson started, taking over questioning with the human interviews. But Diaz cut him off.

"_He_'s missing? He's bloody taken her!" he said, barely keeping his voice below a shout. Jackson glanced at me, but I was equally puzzled.

"Taken who?"

"Lily!"

"Lily Provis? Your girlfriend?"

"Yeah! He's been after her for ages, frikkin sleaze."

I could see his mind working over this, searching for Lily still, despite being momentarily confined to the interview.

"Lily's missing?" I asked.

"She didn't come home yesterday. Everyone's been frantic." He was truly worried about her. He could try and cover it with his anger, but the depth of his feeling was clear.

"Can you tell us what she's like?"

He stood up and stalked to the window, staring out at the autumn morning, looking for the words.

"Lily's… you know that song? Little ray of sunshine? That's what she's like," I could sense Jackson take quiet offense at this display of sentiment. No wonder he worked fine at Alasdair's parents. Sometimes he seemed more Soul than human: all emotions are fine in moderation.

"Really," Diaz insisted, "For everyone. She keeps that family together. What with her mother, and then Charlie… she's the one that keeps things going, makes her Aunt smile… you know? She wouldn't leave them. She couldn't."

***

"Do you buy that?" Jackson asked as we drove to the Provis's.

"A Soul kidnapping a human? A rough-tough newly arrived Soul-free zone human?" Sunshiny-ness aside, this Lily Provis would run rings around a Soul like Alasdair.

"That's what I thought," Jackson murmured, pulling into the drive.

The man who answered the door looked like he would have preferred to be doing anything else.

"Mr Provis?"

"What do you want?"

"Seeker Jackson and Seeker Hungry Flame. We've heard your daughter Lily is missing."

He eyed us suspiciously;

"Can you confirm that?" Jackson prompted.

"Haven't seen her in a while, no," he said reluctantly.

"Can we come in?"

He moved out of the doorway and we followed him through to the lounge. A thin, nervous looking woman hovered by the other door. We weren't introduced.

"When did you last see her?" Jackson asked, settling into the sofa and his line of questioning.

"Friday morning. Going off to school." Mr Provis was still distinctly uncomfortable.

"With her brothers?"

"Naw, they went later."

"And no one's seen her since?"

He shrugged and shook his head.

"And you didn't report her missing?" I added.

"Excuse me if I don't care to send a pack of Seekers to hunt down my daughter. I don't suppose you'd get that."

But I did get that. I had lived in fear of Seekers catching my child too.

Jackson's eyes said _Grab Mrs Provis and Get Out of Here, Leave This Guy To Me_.

"Mrs Provis, can I help you make a cup of tea?" I offered, getting up and watching Mr. Provis calm down in direct proportion to the increasing distance between us.

"Of course, I'm sorry, ah…" She led the way into the kitchen. I passed the family photos on the wall, all recently taken. I suppose there weren't a lot of printing facilities in the South Soul-free zone. Mr and Mrs Provis, Lily, her two older brothers hulking behind her. Happy families. Only this one was not so happy. They all look strained, pushed to the limit. Except Lily. Lily was always the one smiling naturally, hopefully. The little ray of sunshine.

I suddenly realized I hadn't talked to Bhask in ages. Not really talked to him, just said hello because Dorsey had called him. I itched to dial his number. But Mrs Provis' tea had to be made, and anyway, the time zones would be wrong.

"Sorry about Aub," Mrs Provis said, wiping her hands on her skirt and filling the kettle as I joined her in the kitchen. "It's been a big move, Soul-free zone to the city. You had to be tough to survive out there, and that's a habit's hard to break…" she flashed me an apologetic smile.

"Why did you move?"

"We stayed out as long as we could, but Charlie, my son, he needed treatment. He's been… sick. I couldn't just watch him…" I understood the reluctance to say the word 'die', as if saying it would make it more real somehow.

"And how is he?" I asked gently.

"Ah, the Healers are doing what they can… we left it all a bit late I think. Still. At least he's comfortable now."

"That must be hard on his sister."

"Lily? They're cousins. Oh no, I'm not her mother. I'm her aunt. Her mother…" The reluctance was back, dogging her words and herding them away from me.

"Her mother?"

"Her mother's in cold storage." She broke through the reluctance finally. "She was a real wild one."

There was a long silence, and without really knowing what I was saying, it slipped out.

"My husband's up for cold storage."

Surprise stilled her hands from loading a tray with cups. I wondered why he kept intruding into my thoughts. I was at work, damn it, one of the only places I could escape that sort of thing. Until now.

"A, a Soul?"

"No, human," I murmured. "Well. We'd better get those boys their tea, huh? They'll think we've gone to sleep out here."

She smiled her strained, nervous smile and picked up the tray. I followed her in.

"Alasdair. A Soul. You know him?" Jackson was saying as Mrs Provis poured the tea.

"No."

I could see Jackson didn't entirely believe him. Mr Provis might not know him, but he knew of him.

"Had a fight at school with Munro Diaz. You know him."

"Sure. Diaz is a great kid. He's been a good friend to this family, supported us. He's like a son to me, seeing as his family… If Diaz gets into a fight with some punk Soul kid there'll be good reason for it."

"They way the school tells it, it wasn't Diaz that started it. It was Alasdair."

"I don't know anything about that."

Mr Provis' gaze kept snapping at me. I could see his blood pressure rising again at having to be in the same room as a Soul. I got the message and took the teapot back into the kitchen. Mrs Provis was right behind me. I cornered her as soon as we were out of ear shot.

"Could you show me Lily's room?" I asked, all lightness. Mrs Provis nodded, trapped, and led me upstairs.

It was so different to Alasdair's. Lily had made an effort to make it homey, even though they had only recently moved. I remembered the sparseness of the human camps in comparison, and recognized her attempt to fill her new life with _stuff,_ create a visible history, a visible presence, fill the emptiness with herself objectified. She had blue tacked things all over the walls, autumn leaves, dried flowers, pictures from magazines, photos of family and friends.

"Sorry it's such a mess. She's not real tidy, that girl." Mrs Provis said, trying to sound reproving but unable to hide the edge of affection, as she picked up some odds and ends from the chaos on the floor; school books, clothes, magazines, CD's...

"Please," I said, staying her arm, "It lets us get to know her a bit more. You should see Alasdair's room; it's like something out of a catalogue. He's not _there_." I touched the photos of friends at school, grinning stupidly for the camera. "It still feels like Lily's _here_. That's important to us."

I opened her wardrobe; there was a gaping hole in the hangers.

"Something missing there?

"All her favourite clothes are gone."

"Anything else?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Which bits?"

She sighed, and despair leaked out from behind her stiffly held nervousness.

"Her favourite bits, huh?" I guessed. Rightly.

She led me to a blank square on the wall.

"It was a photo of us. All of us. Charlie, her Dad, her brothers…"

***

I waited for Jackson at the car, thinking about Bhask. Maybe I could just send a voice message. He'd get it when he woke up.

"Hi Bhask, Mum here. I um, just realized we haven't really talked in ages, and… I just wanted to say hello, so… call me back."

I could see Jackson returning and got into the car.

"What was her room like?" he said, reversing out of the drive.

"Typical teenager."

"There is such a thing?"

"Alright, stereotypical then. But she knew she was going. Or someone did. All her favourite stuff is gone. Clothes, photos…" then something struck me.

"There were no pictures of Alasdair," I started.

"No pictures of Souls at all, in the whole house." Jackson remarked.

"Funny that." I got the feeling I was the first Soul to set foot in the house since the family moved in. "But no pictures of her and Diaz either."

"Sure there were-"

"No, I mean, no pictures of just them together. It's always them and her brothers, or them and the whole family." Almost like they didn't exist as a separate entity. "How'd you go with Mr Provis."

"Not much. Says he has no idea where she'd go, and has no idea why she left. He's worried about her, though. Oh and he thinks Diaz is a shining example of humanhood. I guess you got that part. Mrs Provis?"

"Mrs Provis… she's the aunt by the way, not the mother. Mother's in cold storage."

"Interesting."

"They moved here because of her son, Charlie. He's at the Healing Centre, and it doesn't sound like he's coming out."

"Huh."

"Not much further advanced, are we?"

"Check the bus stations. Circulate their pictures. Otherwise we're at a dead end, I reckon."


	7. Chapter three

3.

"Alex is in interview 2," Beebe said as Jackson and I walked in. The miss-per had eaten up the morning. Though I wasn't supposed to be in today, there was the miss-per work to upload, plus a whole chunk of computer work that hadn't got done yesterday, and I thought I'd stay at the office and take care of it before it ate up my inbox. The day was toast anyway.

But I'd forgotten about Alex. The name made anger instantly flow through my veins, chasing the tails of the fear.

"Don't want to know about it," I said, keeping the anger just contained beneath my cool exterior. I was not going to let Alex totally ruin my day. Just because he was in the same country did not mean I had to deal with him.

"Fraid that's not an option. He's got you up for a character witness. For the trial." He held up the form.

_Ooh, that was rich_, I thought, livid, my anger bursting through and running with the heat of lava through my mind. I grabbed the form from him and stormed down to the interview rooms. At least the fury stopped me feeling the chill he struck in my bones.

I slapped the form on the table and sat in front of him, arms folded, mouth clamped shut, waiting. I stared precisely at his shoulder and didn't let my gaze waver an inch. He was not two feet from me, suddenly real, suddenly there, warm, breathing, watching, the first time I'd seen him in months. The first time since he had been trying to break my arm. But fear didn't even graze me. Nothing was going to touch me now. Everything was fuel for my anger.

I suppose he'd been in custody since yesterday. I really didn't care. They had let him keep his clothes though. Nice of them. They hadn't let me. I wandered how long it would be til he got sent to the remand centre. Surely he wouldn't get bail. Not for such a serious charge. I shuddered internally to think of living in the same city with him.

"Hello Hungry Flame," Melts Blue Ice said eventually. He sat next to Alex, like a lawyer.

"Hello Melts Blue Ice," I said, coolly, but civilly, without moving my stare.

"You got our request then."

"Uh huh."

"Will you do it?"

"What am I supposed to say, that you work with Blackheath? You're being tried for involvement in crimes against Souls!" I was loving the irony. I hadn't charged him, but he was being tried for what he had done to me anyway. More or less.

"That's why it's so important we have Soul character witnesses."

"You know I didn't work with Blackheath against Souls." Alex spoke up finally, trying for an even voice but it grated at the edges. It made me glance at his face, and I couldn't contain my fury much longer.

"I don't know, you looked pretty chummy to me, last time I saw you two together," _when you were breaking my hand_. I didn't say it but he understood.

"I don't want your opinion of me as a Seeker, I want your opinion of me as my wife!" he said, low and hard. His voice chilled me to the core. I ripped the ring off my finger and hurled it at the table as I left.

"You don't have a wife!" I screamed.

"Flexing off?" Jackson remarked as I stormed past his desk.

"Flexing off," I replied though clenched teeth, making for the exit. The joys of flexible work hours.

"Gotcha," he said, shifting the pile of uploads from my desk to his.

"Flame!" Melts Blue Ice called when I was halfway across the carpark. I kept moving, and he had to jog to get in front of me.

"Flame, wait." He stayed me with a hand to my shoulder; my whole body stiffened in response. The power of the human touch.

"He wanted me to give you this," he said, digging a CD out of his coat.

"That's evidence, I'm not touching it. Go hand it in."

"No, he sent it to me a little while ago, I just… I just wanted to see you first."

I thought of the unanswered messages on my machine with no emotion.

"Take it."

"No."

"Flame-"

"Leave me alone! Why can't he just leave me alone!"

***

I was on my second kilometer before I started to calm down, my body falling into the pattern of the laps and the rhythm and flow of the water starting to ease my mind. Ease Alex out of it, the Kimberley out of it, the darkness, the pain, the fear, the helplessness… I hated having him back. This time yesterday I had been fine. Now, I couldn't quite get back there, no matter how many laps I pushed through. He was always there, bubbling away like a poison at the bottom of my soul. Finally I gave up, making do with a degree of calmness and a large dose of fatigue. Dorsey was waiting for me when I got out of the pool.

"They asked you to be a character witness?" she said.

I nodded "You?"

She shook her head, "Are you going to do it?"

I didn't reply straight away, concentrating on drying my hair.

"If he gets convicted, he'll get cold storage. He won't even get exile," Dorsey said into the silence.

"You think I should help him?"

"I think you should tell the truth."

I laughed.

"Then he'll be convicted for sure."

"I think you should tell them about Yashie's father. Bhask's father. I think you should tell them about the guy that saved Falling Smoke."

"He's not the same guy I knew back then," I muttered. Or if he is… _I don't want to know him anyway, _"I don't know that guy anymore."

She watched me, her face unreadable.

"Just like he didn't know you, huh?"

We picked up a pizza on the way home and Dorsey went to stick it in the oven as I dumped my gear. The CD was lying on the table. I stared at it as I hung up my coat. Melts Blue Ice must have come here after. A message from Alex. I went straight past it as if it wasn't there.

We walked over to Margie's to pick up Yash. Margie waved at us from the lounge, deeply involved in sorting out some local tension between Soul and human residents. We waved back and headed for the backyard, where the kids were often banished when there were such things afoot. Yash was playing with Etty in the tree house. She disembarked onto Dorsey's shoulders as I watched Etty seamlessly rearrange her game to fit one. I was struck with a memory of Etty lying in his lap, blissfully secure. I was momentarily envious, then brushed the thought away. Maybe she could feel safe with him: She was human. It was entirely different for me.

As we walked home, Yash told me about her day, and I mentioned vaguely something about Seeker work and the pool. I put her in the bath as Dorsey tended to the pizza. I sat on the floor on the bathroom, watching Yash play in the water, and listening to my phone messages. Bhask and Jackson. Checking the time, I rang Bhask back first.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice instantly warming me inside. Must still be cold from the pool.

"Bhask!"

"Hey, Mum! Did Alex get in ok?"

I paused, stunned.

"You knew he was coming?"

"Well… yeah."

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"He… he was afraid you'd move before he got a chance to talk to you." I got the idea Bhask was distinctly embarrassed. Like he'd been caught on his father's side rather than supporting his mother. But it wasn't fair to expect him to take sides. He didn't even know what had really happened.

"I'm sorry," he said, and I hated the worry in his voice.

"Look, whatever. How's Maddy?"

But he wasn't so easily diverted.

"Mum, what's going on with you guys?"

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

"Mum-"

"Please Bhask."

There was silence while we waited for each other to break first. But I was done breaking.

"Alright," he said quietly.

I listened to his tales of settling in to their new place as I dried Yash, who's hand seemed to be stuck at a constant 2 inches from the phone, begging to be allowed to talk. Finally she was dry and I passed him over, taking the opportunity to get her dressed in her least favourite pajamas while she was occupied.

She refused to be separated from the phone so we ate in silence as she listened. Only bed time convinced her to pass the phone on to Dorsey. I didn't think twice about it, and went through the nightly ritual blissfully unaware. I was shutting her bedroom door quietly behind me when I overheard her.

"Didn't she tell you?" Dorsey was saying, "She arrested him." _Damn snitch_. I shot her a filthy look. _I_ didn't arrest him.

"Involvement in Crimes Against Souls. I know." I heard her say as I walked away from them, closing my bedroom door between us and called Jackson back on the other phone.

"Jackson," he answered.

"New developments?"

"Bingo."

I happily let work flood everything else out, turning my concentration on the case.

"What did you get?"

"Alasdair and Lilly boarding a bus for Bethseda. Together."

"_Together _together?"

"I couldn't say."

Jackson wasn't great on the touchy feely side of things, but ten neither was I. We'd have to show it to Beebe and Montgomery for a second opinion.

"Bethseda…" I murmured, thinking.

"According to Mr Provis, it's where her grandma used to live."

"Do they know where, exactly?"

"Nope. Mum used to take her there when he and the boys were off elsewhere."

"Bummer."

"Not so bummer: we've still got Mum."

"Mum's in the deep freeze."

"Sure, but she can be un deep frozen."

"Jackson…"

"Just because she's being punished doesn't mean she can't still help us. She'll know where they are. Her little girl." What mother wouldn't want to help her little girl. Maybe one in cold storage. Maybe it was the place for people who could be deaf to their loved ones, who could carry on regardless.

"You know anyone in Storage?"

I was still deep in thought and my answer slipped out before I'd considered my words. "Yeah, the director is a friend of mine…"

"Perfect. Line it up for tomorrow. Send me the time to pick you up."

And he'd hung up before I had the chance to disagree.

Dorsey was waiting, ready to pounce, ready to take me task for not telling Bhask about Alex, but when she saw my frozen expression she held off.

"Jackson wants me to get Shep to un deep freeze a woman in cold storage." I told her, still holding the phone, chewing my lip, "information on a miss per case."

"You don't want to do it?" she said, sitting on the bed beside me.

I looked down and gathered myself, putting the phone down exactly in its charger.

"Doesn't matter what I want to do. If it's legal, and it helps the case… I better call him before it gets too late."

Shepherds Sound was enthusiastic . Lily's mother was one of the longest stored humans, and he was delighted at the chance to investigate the effects of longer term storage.


	8. Chapter four

4.

We drove south and east through the early dawn light, meeting the rising sun, fields emerging out of the darkness around us.

"I didn't think," Jackson said, out of the blue, "You should be with that kid of yours today."

I shrugged. "It's alright." And truly, it was. As much as I adored Yash, weekends were difficult. Long periods of time spent with her would invariably stir up memories of Alex. She had Dorsey, and Dorsey loved her like a mother too. _I'd make it up to her later_, I told myself vaguely.

"What was she in for?" I asked, turning him back onto the case, on the woman who had been stuck in deep freeze for years.

"Murder, assault, the usual anti-social activities," Jackson replied mildly.

"Anti-Soul or generalized?"

"Anti-Soul until the last one: the human lover of a Soul. That's how they got her. The family went to the Seekers."

"Sounds like a tough nut."

"No arguments there."

Then sun was well up by the time we arrived at the facility. Shep met us in the carpark, perky with the thought of inspecting the effects of longer term storage.

"There shouldn't be any, of course, but until we try…" he said, leading us through the complex and tapping his fingers against each other in anticipation.

"You sure we don't need authorization for this?"

"From who? Her court order says incarceration til behaviour change likely. She'll still be incarcerated. So we're following the letter of the law there. I don't see why she shouldn't help you out."

Things were always so black and white for Shep. I envied him that, but it didn't settle the unease I always felt with his work.

"She should be ready by now," he went on, "I've had her defrosting since dawn, nice and slow so she'll be really with it."

He showed us into a small windowless room and locked the door behind us. The cold storage tank filled most of the space, the clear cover showing the woman watching us from inside. Shep pressed the green button to open the cover while Jackson checked his gun was loaded.

"Adele Provis?" Jackson asked, taking the lead as usual with a human interview.

She seemed slow to respond.

"Might be a little sluggish still. I could crank up her metabolism a touch?" Shep suggested.

"Leave it," Jackson muttered, "Your daughter is missing and we'd like your help in finding her."

"Lily?" she croaked, her throat unused to moving. Shep frowned and made some notes.

I passed her the photograph. Her movements were like an old lady's, like she was half frozen still.

"My little girl…" she whispered, her eyes soaking up every detail. Not so little anymore.

I couldn't shake an image of Alex being treated like this, frozen in a tiny tank while Yash grew up without him.

"We have information that she's gone to Bethseda. Do you know where she might have gone there?"

She kept staring at the photograph, but an edge of hardness crept into her face.

"You're Seekers, aren't you."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm not helping Seekers find my girl."

"There's a question of kidnap. A young Soul is also involved."

"She kidnapped a Soul?"

I hadn't thought about this angle. But a mother would know her daughter. Had she led him off to Bethseda to get rid of him, sick of his unwanted attention?

"You think she's capable of that?"

She withdrew behind a cold, hard mask.

"I haven't seen her in years."

"Mrs Provis, if your daughter is involved in a crime, its better we find her before things get out of hand. You don't want her ending up in here with you."

Her eyes bulged but she kept her silence.

"Thank you for your cooperation Mrs Provis," Jackson muttered, signaling to Shep to shut her down. I watched her cool down until she was frozen again, unable to bring my eyes away, unable to stop imagining Alex in her place.

***

Jackson drove back through the countryside in silence, the afternoon light quickly deepening to evening.

"Dead end there, then," he said to fill the silence that deepened with the approaching night.

"So what now?"

"Check the families for any news when we get back to the office. Check with the local Bethseda Seekers again tomorrow…"

"You going to drop me home first?" I didn't want to be at the office. Not while Alex was lurking metres away in the cells.

Jackson glanced at me. I knew he was wondering about Alex again.

"Sure," he said, and I sagged in relief that he didn't ask.

"How long's do you think he'll be there for?" I murmured eventually, watching the landscape condense into a continuous green smear by the roadside as he overtook a truck.

"Should go to remand first thing Monday morning. Hearing's on Thursday."

The Teacher was right. Uncertainty was worrying. A timeframe for the resolution of Alex's presence, for or against, was undeniably settling.

After a while Jackson turned on the radio, the music filling the silence and keeping the outside darkness out.

"A man is a two-face, a worrisome thing who'll leave you to sing the blues, in the night," Ella sang through the tinny speakers, and I couldn't agree with her more.


	9. Chapter five

5.

"Perfect timing. You've got a visitor out front." Jackson said as I walked in Monday morning, dumping my stuff on our adjoining desks. How did he always get here before me? Even when Dorsey dropped Yash off at school, he was here before me. _Because he has no life_, I tried to tell myself. The truth was I didn't know.

"Who?" I asked, wanting to avoid a meeting with Melts Blue Ice or any of that ilk.

"Apparently one Lily Provis."

I shot him a look, but his face was entirely serious.

"You didn't go talk to her?"

"Apparently, she asked for you."

***

"I wanted to report a missing person?" the girl said, before she'd even sat down at the interview table, looking at each us in turn with wide eyes, as if he could be found somewhere in us, "His name's Alasdair."

"Alasdair…, Soul, male, 18 years." Jackson read off his handheld.

"Yeah, that's him," she looked hopeful, as if we were about to conjure his presence. Jackson and I exchanged a glance.

"Where did you last see him?"

She looked back and forth between us, and the hope began to fade. "Back of Argyle street. In Bethseda. Saturday night."

"You didn't report it to the local Seekers?"

"Aunt said to talk to you."

"You've talked to your Aunt?" I asked.

"I called her from Bethseda. After I couldn't find him."

"Alright," Jackson said, regaining control, "See the thing is, we've had his parents say he was missing since Friday night, your father say _you_ were missing, and your boyfriend say you were kidnapped."

She looked momentarily puzzled. "Diaz?"

"Yep."

She coloured slightly, scooching her sneakers on the floor. "He's not really my boyfriend."

"Do you want to maybe start from the beginning?"

"We just moved here not long ago. My cousin…" she paused.

"Your aunt told us about Charlie," I said softly.

She nodded glumly.

"Anyway. We started school, and most people were pretty weird about us, you know? Soul-free zone as well as human, that's pretty much as bad as it gets bar cold storage."

_Like your mum_, I thought.

"But we had each other, we'd always stuck together. It didn't matter what the others thought of us. But Alasdair was different. He talked to me, you know? Like a human." She chuckled a short, sad hiccup. "Well, like a Soul I guess."

"You liked him," I said, and Jackson seemed content for me to take over. This was secret women's business territory, and I trumped his human card there.

She nodded, lips held tight. "But… I knew Dad would go nuts. And my brothers…"

"And Diaz?"

She sighed as if the world were too difficult by half.

"Diaz has just always sort of assumed we were together. I guess it's my fault for never really saying anything, just playing along. He's a nice guy, but…"

"He's not Alasdair."

She looked at me, meeting the understanding in my eyes, and nodded. My heart swelled remembering being in love like that, thinking no one could compare.

"I told Alasdair we couldn't see each other, and he just didn't get it. I shouldn't have been so nice to him. I should have stuck to my own. But he was so sweet, he'd never had a girlfriend before…"

She looked into her lap, quietly fighting the tears.

"Tell us about the fight at school."

"Diaz was just fooling around, kissing me and that, and Alasdair just lost it. He knew I wasn't really into it, and he didn't think I should have to put up with it. Diaz didn't understand, of course, and he beat him up. He thought Alasdair had just attacked him out of the blue."

"You didn't tell the Teachers?"

She shook her head, withdrawing into herself.

"It weren't Alasdair's fault. Not really. I shouldn't have let him take all the blame. He got suspended, you know? His parents were horrified. But he told me he'd do it again. Diaz could really hurt him; I couldn't let that happen."

"So…"

"So I convinced him to run away. Start a new life. It's so easy to lie your way to a new life in the Soul system. I took him to Bethseda."

A new life. It should have been the answer to all their problems. But Lily looked anything but content. Distress ran off her in waves.

"What happened there?"

"I don't know," she whispered, "We stayed out the back of my granny's place, just til places opened on Monday. I forgot about how the registration offices close over the weekend. Alasdair got us food, nobody looked twice at us. It was fine. You can hide no problem in the city." It was not my first choice for a hiding place, but I realized she was right. They could hide in plain view. People ignore each other in the cities. Finding them would be difficult. It's not like you can track anyone in the city. The wind is the only one that would know where you are.

"But Sunday morning, I woke up, and he was gone."

"Gone."

"He just wasn't there. I searched everywhere we'd been, but … I can't find him."

***

"You believe her?" Jackson asked, as I watched her through the other side of the two way mirror.

I nodded, sighing, "It could all be a cover for having got rid of him, but… I can't help believing her."

"You're a softie."

"Spose."

"I guess it's over to the local guys to check it out, see if there's any sign of a struggle."

"And in the meantime?"

He shrugged. "Don't have anything to keep her on. She goes home I guess."

Jackson contacted the Bethseda Seekers while I took Lily to forensics to sample her prints, fingernail cuttings, hair, clothes, and blood. She didn't even ask why. Her mind was someplace else. Alasdsair.

"Come on, we'll take you home," I said walking her out of forensics. She stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"I can't go home. The boys'll kill me dead."

I waited for her, but she didn't budge. "They've been very worried about you."

"I guess," she said apprehensively, then shook her head, "I can't go home."

"Do they even know you're back?"

She shook her head again, ashamed. Or was it scared?

"Alright," I sighed, "Give me a minute."

***

"She doesn't want to go home," I hissed at Jackson, who had the far off look of someone who's been on hold for a while. He shifted the phone to the other ear and focused on me, glancing at Lily hovering uncertainly in the corridor behind.

"I don't suppose you're thinking of taking her to the Children's Ward?" he said back, quietly, so she wouldn't hear.

I gave him a look that left him no doubt I wasn't taking her anywhere near it. "She's hardly a child. And there's nothing wrong with her."

"You're not thinking of taking her home are you?"

"No." I needed the head space.

"What about Margie?"

"Margie's is never very… relaxing. Lily needs a break."

"What about that Turner woman? She's a friend of yours isn't she?"

"Kim? Maybe… I mean yes, but…"

"You can only ask?"

I sighed and got out my phone.

"Kim, got a bit of a favour to ask."

"Go on," she said, sounding only vaguely distracted by the small children in the background.

"Promise me you'll say no if it's the slightest bit weird."

"Ok."

"Got a 17 year old runaway girl here, doesn't want to go home. I'm at a bit of a loose end as to where to put her."

"And you're thinking my place?"

"I really don't want to take her to the Children's Ward. And she really doesn't want to go home just yet."

"Well, Sarah's over for the week…"

"They let her out? That's great! Oh. Don't worry about us then, we'll sort something out."

"No, it'll be fine. She'll just have to have the sofa bed, that's all."

"Wait, before you decide, I haven't told you everything yet."

"What, is she a murderer?"

"Uh…"

"Flame?!"

I had her full attention now.

"She's sort of involved in a case of a missing Soul."

"So you're saying she might kill Souls?"

"The problem is, we don't know yet. Maybe." Maybe just kidnap. Or maybe nothing…

"Bring her over," Kim said, "We'll see what she's like."

***

Lily paused when we got out of the car. Margie, Kim, and her four kids were waiting for us, like judges at the Spanish inquisition.

"Flame says we might have a criminal on our hands here. Kidnapping Souls," Margie started.

Lily's smile was nervous but you could see she appreciated the humour.

"Kidnapping hearts more like it," Margie murmured, taking in her shy smile and still hopeful look, "You ran away from home?"

"Yes ma'am," she said, looking a little ashamed. "They, uh, they don't appreciate people running away from things, back home."

"Don't they really," Margie said softly, and I could see her heart melting, "I reckon you'll be ok here. What do you reckon, Kim?"

"What's one more mouth to feed?" Kim said affectionately.

"Sarah?"

"One less washing up for me to do," she shrugged. That was a yes.

"Alright then. You're in kid."

I let out a breath of relief and called Jackson to tell him the good news as I got back in my car.

"Happy campers all round then. Alasdair's parents reckon he'll be home any minute," Jackson said dryly.

"Really," I said, skeptically.

"They reckon he realized what a terrible mistake he was making and dumped her."

I shook my head. He would have called by now if he was coming home. I could understand Alasdair feeling his parents would not approve. The incident with the elder brother showed their colours as far as humans were concerned. So it was understandable that he wouldn't go home. But where then? An why so suddenly, no word to anyone?

It was like he had just disappeared. And I knew the loss of him, the hole he had left behind, would eat into Lily every minute he was gone.


	10. Chapter six

6.

I smoothed the dark fabric of my Seeker uniform, remembering the first time Dorsey had seen me in it. She had just about fallen off the benchtop laughing.

"You wear that to work?" she had grinned, incredulous.

"Not always. It's standard issue. I've always had one," I said, a little defensive. It was navy blue, it wasn't that funny.

"I've _never_ seen you wear that."

"No, well, it's not for field work really, is it."

Jackson didn't wear one either, so I didn't usually bother. But today I was going to be a character witness in a trial, and I needed to look as respectable as I could. Alex's trial.

I stood up in front of the courtroom and I did what Dorsey said. I told them about Yash's father, Bhask's father. I told them about the guy that saved Falling Smoke. I told them about the guy that fought Blackheath to save Souls. I didn't tell them about the guy that worked with him to torture me. I liked to pretend he didn't exist. It meant ignoring his current reincarnation, sitting opposite me in the court room. Which was surprisingly hard, as I talked about the Alex I had known and loved before.

Then I walked away from the witness stand and went back to work. Got on with my life. I didn't wait to hear the result of the trial. I didn't care if it went on for days. I didn't even turn on the television. I had done my bit and it was over as far as I was concerned.

It was amazing how engrossed you could get with computer work. I didn't hear Jackson til he was sitting on my desk.

"Earth to Flame?"

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Interview room 2. Juvenile vandalism. You up for it?"

"Of course."

"You sure you're ok? The past couple of days…"

"I'm fine."

"You say that a lot you know."

"Because I am. Let's go."

The juvenile vandalism case was something Jackson had dragged in opportunistically; two human teenagers graffiti-ing a building. I read this as I walked into the interview room, and looked up to see

"Alida!"

"Oh man!" Alida groaned, "You're gonna tell Margie, aren't you."

"You want to explain?" I asked calmly, sitting opposite them. The other girl was Etienne St Louis, I'd seen her hanging around Margie's.

"It was just a wall," Alida said, flopping back in her chair in defeat, "A blank canvas. It was boring, and we livened it up."

Etienne kicked her under the table.

"No it's alright. Flame's alright," Alida told her.

"You know you can't just do that to other people's property," I told her.

"No one owns it. No one goes there. It's just us kids. It's our place."

"Alida…"

"No one would have even noticed if Bozo there hadn't been snooping around."

Jackson raised an eyebrow at his new nick name, but before he could reply, Montgomery stuck his head in the interview room.

"Sorry, guys, thought you'd want to know. Alex just got acquitted."

"Thanks," Jackson said, when I said nothing. I ran my fingers over the dent my ring had left in the table when I threw it. Consciously, purposefully, feeling nothing.

"Well, looks pretty open and shut to me," Jackson went on, taking over, "You were caught in the act, you've admitted it, if you agree to clean it up that's as far as it'll go."

Etienne and Alida protested loudly.

"We spent days on that!"

"It's Art!"

"Tell you what. Clean it up, I'll find out who owns it, when we get their consent, then you can start again," Jackson said.

_Softie_, I thought distractedly.

"What's the point in that? Why can't we just leave it?"

"The point is that you've been charged with vandalism. Now, you go about this the right way, it'll disappear. You want to fight me on it, you can fight me all the way to the courthouse. Capiche?"

The girls knew when they'd hit a dead end, and agreed sulkily.

***

That night, when I dreamt the dream again, I could remember it. I was in a dark room, maybe a cave, and Alex was walking towards me. I was afraid he was going to hurt me again, but his fingers when they picked up my hand stayed gentle, smoothing the skin round my joints as if he could heal them by his touch. And his touch was magic, it drained away the fear that clenched my inside tight all the time, and I felt myself relax in a way I hadn't felt in ages. Part of the calm stayed with me when I woke, staring at the books on Yashie's shelf in the semi-dark, illuminated by the gentle glow of her night light. I watched her tranquil face sleeping completely undisturbed, and settled back into her warmth to join her.

***

I sat at the table, turning the CD round and round in my hands, tapping each corner on the table as it passed. Dorsey had long ago given up nagging me about it, resorting to refusing to move it from the table just as I refused to see it. But this morning, for some reason I was drawn to it. I think I wanted to open it. I think I did. It's not like it could hurt me now.

I loaded it into the screen before I could change my mind. It was a video recording. A plain in the Kimberley, a human child centre screen. A child I recognized.

The eldest child.

"Uh, hi. This guy here… What's your name? Alex? This guy Alex said that Seeker that found me didn't know what had happened to us. And so she might be upset. So… I just wanted to let her know, we're fine. And… thanks."


	11. Chapter seven

7.

"Had a call from Alex today," Dorsey said when I got home from work. Yash spun around from her drawings to watch my reaction. I tried not to have one. I supposed it was inevitable, now he was a free man. Part of me had been waiting for it, whilst the other half pretended he didn't exist.

"He wants to see Yash."

"Fine," I said lightly, "Yash? Daddy wants to see you. Is that alright?"

She didn't answer straight away, and I realized she didn't look very happy about the news. Didn't she miss her Dad? I hadn't even thought to notice, being so pre-occupied with trying to pretend he didn't exist.

"Will you come?" she asked softly, almost worried.

I wanted desperately to say no, but her eyes wouldn't let mine go.

"Okay," I said reluctantly.

We met him in a park. Neutral territory. And lots of witnesses. I kept close to Dorsey, keeping my distance, and worked on keeping my breathing normal and my eyes away from him. But they were drawn to him like a magnet. I had to work hard. It was scary how hard I had to work. Did I want him to hurt me?

He squatted down and held his arms out for Yash, but she was twined round my leg.

"Yash?" he called softly, waiting.

I gave her a gentle shove. He was her father. As much as I had a problem with him, I knew he wouldn't hurt her. She should have a father. She approached him with slow, wary steps.

"You were mean to Mummy," she said finally, and we were all taken aback. No one had told her what had happened. How had she pieced this together?

"Yeah, I was." His tone was measured.

"You yelled at her."

He closed his eyes, his face taught.

"Mm-hmm." Then he opened them and looked searchingly into hers, "I made a mistake Yash. But I miss you." He reached out to hold her shoulders, but she eased out of his grasp.

"Mummy needs me now," she said very quietly, edging back towards me.

The expression on his face was unbearable.

"Yash, I'm alright," I said softly, "You go be with Daddy for a while."

"No," she said firmly, gripping my jeans likewise, "You're not alright." She sounded just like Alex. And that was all either of us could get out of her. There was nothing more to say, so we retreated to our respective residences, and I could breathe again.

***

When I walked up to Kim's porch, Sarah and Lily were sitting facing each other, leaning on a roofpost each, sharing the night. Escaping from the little ones rampaging inside.

"Hungry Flame!" Lily called out with a 100 watt smile. "You found Alasdair?"

"No," I admitted, my stomach dropping in perfect harmony with her face, "There's been nothing at all." The Bethseda Seekers had done doorknocks, put up posters… and come up with a big fat nothing. "Did he know anyone there? Had you met anyone?"

"No. We went to the store, but that's about it. A different one every time. Just in case. He never talked to no one else." She seemed to collapse in on herself, and had to sit back down on the porch.

"You should go home," I said softly, rubbing her arm, "Your dad will be missing you like hell."

"I know," she replied, "But I … can't." Her misery deepened. "I'm just so worried about Alasdair. They won't understand that. They'll think I'm crazy. They … they won't _let_ me worry."

"What about Diaz?" Sarah asked.

"Diaz is… a good guy. He's like an older brother. A _nice_ older brother."

"He was pretty upset you were gone," I added.

"Yeah…" she shrugged. Her mind was clearly absorbed with Alasdair. Diaz hardly rated an extra worry line.

"Have you seen him since you got back?" I asked.

She shook her head, sighing. "He'd tell the others where I am. Aunt will let them know I'm ok. They don't need to know anything else."

I sat with them for a moment longer, then set off home. Halfway there Alida ambushed me.

"Thank you soo much for not telling Margie!" she gushed, hugging me fiercely and scampering off into the night. I had completely forgotten about it. Painting a wall didn't rate on my list of preoccupations these days.

The next day, I glanced through the paper work and saw where Jackson had apprehended them. The abandoned factories down by the river.

"What were you doing snooping around down there anyway?" I asked him, leaning over the desk. He didn't bother emerging from behind his screen.

"A lot of human kids hang out there. They're like monkeys, getting into everything, everywhere. I was seeing if they'd heard anything about Alasdair."

"And?"

"They weren't very chatty."

"What a surprise." He'd gone and arrested two of them, and the rest treated him like a Seeker. Funny that.

***

I knew as soon as I walked inside that something was up. Dorsey was sitting on the benchtop, watching me, which was normal, but the tension in her pose told me something was going down. I waited, one hand still hanging up my coat.

"He wants a meeting," Dorsey said finally, pushing forward a piece of paper with a phone number and an address written on it.

"You take Yash this time," I replied, pulling my coat straight on the hook and taking off my scarf.

"Not with Yash. With you."

I shook my head and walked outside.

"Flame…" she called after me, then had to follow in frustration when I didn't respond. I stood in the middle of the backyard, breathing in the crisp air, and let the afternoon sunlight wash my face.

"Is this how it's going to be? Forever? What you guys had before, it's just gone? I can't believe you put up with all of that and you don't love him."

"He pushed me too far," I murmured finally, trying to stay detached, like it had happened to someone else.

"Yeah, he did. He was horrible."

"I don't want to talk about it." I shivered, telling myself it was from the cold, and went back inside.

But the prospect of forever had scared me. Forever was not long in human terms. I hadn't wanted anything else but this life, I was planning on it being my last. Is this how I wanted to spend the last years of my last life?

On the way out the door the next morning, my hand grabbed the paper with his address on it and stuffed it deep into my pocket.


	12. Chapter eight

8.

There was a note on my desk when I got in.

"Oh no," I said softly, reading it. Jackson looked up enquiringly, and I passed it to him as I dialed a number on my phone. "Lily? It's Charlie. He's gone."

"Oh Charlie…" I heard her breathe. I gave her a few moments for it to sink in.

"Your aunt thought you should know," I murmured.

"Aunt will be…" but she couldn't find the words.

"You want to go see her?" I offered, "I could take you."

There was a long silence.

"I want to see her, but… not them. Can I do that?"

"Sure." I pulled my coat off the back of my chair and Jackson waved.

I drove her to the hospital and stayed in the car, watching her run into her aunt's arms, quietly sharing each other's grief. I couldn't help thinking of losing Bhask in the fire. I knew they had no need of a stranger now. Anyone who hadn't known Charlie was superfluous.

As I drove her home she was quiet, and I left her to her thoughts.

"Where is Alasdair? It's been more than a week now!" she burst out suddenly. "He's dead isn't he? Oh god, he's dead…" I pulled over on the side of the road, unable to ignore her raw grief.

"We don't know that, Lily. You can't think that yet."

"What if, what if Dad and the boys…"

"You think they might have been involved?"

"What if they killed him?"

"Your Aunt gave them alibis for the night he went missing," I said carefully, "Would she lie?"

"No. Not about this." But she didn't look convinced. I gave up right then on the idea of trying to get her to move back today. With Charlie gone, the family might move back to the Soul-free zone. I couldn't see Lily doing that.

When her weeping had quietened I drove her back to Kim's. But though she could contain her tears, it was like she was still trying to contain this tearing pain of not knowing. And though she walked inside and was greeted by the little ones as if nothing was wrong, part of me stayed with her even as I pulled out of the drive. My thoughts couldn't divest themselves of her anguish. So I drove back to the office.

As Alasdair was last seen in Bethesda, the local Seekers had taken over the case. But they had sent us copies of all the evidence. I pored over all of it til late in the evening. Neighbour interviews, storekeeper interviews, doorknocks. Photos of where they had stayed, an old cubby hole inside a blackberry bush. Every charcoal, every gum wrapper had been tagged and photographed. But then I saw something that hadn't been tagged. A bootprint.

I rang Jackson without taking my eyes from it.

"These photos were of the virgin scene, right?" I asked, "No numbskull walked through it first?"

"You still at work?" He replied, "Don't you have a family?"

I waited and he sighed.

"That's what they're telling us. You find something?"

"Maybe."

I rang Lily at Kim's.

"What kind of shoes did Alasdair have?"

"Sneakers." Her voice was sadly wistful at first, then became ignited by a whisper of hope, "He always wore sneakers. He'd get the exact same kind as soon as the old ones wore out. Have you found something?"

"It might be nothing. But I'm going to follow it up anyway."

It was a boot print, not a sneaker tread. Unless it was one of those fancy sneakers that were trying to look like more than they were…

"Would his mum still have an old pair?"

"Oh no. She throws them out as soon as they're off his feet. She doesn't keep nothing."

Sentimentality was not high on her list then. This was not surprising.

"Can you describe them for me?"

I went to the department store, trailing down the shoe aisle, checking out the tread. Here were Alasdair's shoes. No match. But none of the others matched either. _None _of them. Whoever owned that boot did not get their shoes here. It was a boot from somewhere else. Maybe the Soul-free zone… But there was no way I could source a boot from there. Another dead end.

My car didn't take me straight home. I couldn't let go of the case. The thought of Lily waiting in this kind of hovering agony infuriated me. It wasn't fair. They loved each other. He couldn't just disappear. He just couldn't. What was she supposed to do? I drove around the city until my car stopped outside Alex's apartment building. And then I had had enough of thinking. I pulled the scrunched up paper from my pocket and called him.

***

My finger hovered over the bell to his apartment, fighting the urge to run away, but the door opened before I touched it. He was waiting for me.

"Hi," he said softly, letting me in.

It took me a while, but eventually I managed a tiny, tight 'hi' back. I hadn't been so close to him for ages. He was beautiful. Stunningly so. His eyes, his voice, his smell, his quietness… where did this guy go when the other was breaking my fingers?

I did love him, goddamn it. And though I fought it every inch of the way, it seemed to grow the harder I struggled against it, until it threatened to consume me.

He leant on the counter, watching me wandering round the apartment like a caged tiger. It looked exactly the same as the one he had years ago, during the Treaty negotiations. I remembered him bringing me back here, that night… I had missed him so much. I still missed him. But he was a bastard then and he was a bastard now. This was infuriating.

"What do you want." I said finally, through my grinding teeth.

He sighed, rubbing his knuckles on the back of his neck, at a loss as to how to approach my fuming but stony facade.

"I don't know, Flame," he said finally, "I miss you guys. I hate this. I know I fucked up. Really bad-"

And then I was on him, my mouth hard on his, my fingers gripping his hair tight. It took him only a second to react and then his lips were hunting for mine, his hands light on my arms as if he were afraid to trap me against him. I was beyond caring, beyond thinking. So long as he shut up and let me do what I wanted, there was only one intention in my mind. I didn't let him take me to the bedroom, trapping him against the wall between my elbows. I didn't want to get comfortable. I just wanted him now. I didn't want to think anything beyond that.

When I got my breath back, I pushed away from his chest and rebuttoned my top.

"Flame wait, don't just go-"

But I was already gone.

***

"Where were you?" Dorsey's eyes asked as soon as I got in. But I avoided them pointedly, putting Yash to bed leisurely before I relented to her hounding. It was late, Yash was tired: there were priorities. Besides which, I didn't want to think too hard about what I had done. I wasn't sure it would stand up to Dorsey's interrogation.

"I went to Alex's," I said finally, plopping down on the sofa and leaning my head on my hand, rubbing my eyes where they were reddened from a little private crying session in the car. _What had I done? What was wrong with me? _The questions continued to swirl around my head every so often, but I was getting adept at squashing them quickly.

There was a stunned silence before she recovered her composure enough to ask with equal calm.

"So how did it go?"

I shrugged.

"Good."

"You have resumed relations?"

I considered this.

"We have resumed physical relations," I ended up by saying.

"Just physical relations?"

I could feel her eyes driving into me even though I wasn't looking anyway near them. She would make a great Seeker. "You didn't talk? He asked you over there to talk, and you didn't say anything?"

"I said hi," I shrugged finally.

"Wow," she whispered, leaning back, "This is a new low for you."

"Dorsey…"

"Alright, fine, whatever works for you." She pretended to give up, but she couldn't quite let it go at that. "So… relations with an 's' then? Plural?"

"Dorsey!"

She hugged me quickly and escaped to bed.

I tried to do likewise. But her question got me thinking. I did want to see him again. And I didn't want to, but mainly I did. I just didn't want to have to talk to him, confront what he had done. If I could do that, plural was fine. Good, even. Part of me definitely wanted to see him.

I didn't like my chances though. I couldn't see Alex being happy with being treated as a booty call forever. But for a while… I wouldn't have to think. That would be good. Nice, even. When the time came for a new plan, I'd face it then.

***

The dream had changed a little. The beginning was the same: I was in darkness, but I could see Alex coming towards me out of the shadows. There was still the acute fear of being hurt, my hand curling in anticipation, but his fingers when they picked up my hand stayed gentle, draining away the fear that clenched my insides tight all the time. But now, the longer I let the dream go on, the more a panic grew inside me. The panic started small when he was far away, but grew exponentially the longer he stayed close to me. It was dangerous to let him be so close, like a mouse mesmerized by a cobra. And though his touch seemed to heal the ghosts of fear around my hand, this other sensation would grow too much, and I would wake to get away from him. And I would wake alone.


	13. Chapter nine

9.

The morning was spent in fruitless queries with boot manufacturers. I couldn't find a Soul-made boot that matched the print anywhere. It had to come from the Soul free zone. And I had no contacts there, obviously. I was stumped.

This was especially difficult because without being able to bury myself in work, I had nothing to bury thoughts of Alex in. It must have been the slowest Friday ever. Finally I gave up and flexed off.

***

I waited while the bell to his apartment rang distantly, and he opened the door surprised. I let him stare at me for a moment, then he gathered himself and stepped aside. I walked quickly in and watched while he closed the door, careful like he was not sure he wanted to. As soon as it was shut I pushed him against the wall and shoved my mouth onto his, my breath hot in his. He kissed me back equally intensely, his hands gripping my arms and spinning me against the wall, pressing himself against me, dragging his hands down my sides. I dug his shirt out of his pants as my knee climbed his thigh.

"Wait," he muttered, turning his face away for a moment, then trying to catch my eyes. But I was not interested in waiting, and dipped my lips round to his ear, dodging his gaze.

"Stop it, Flame," he growled, gripping my arms and pulling me away from him. I refocused and glared at his shoulder, stiffening in his grip.

"Talk to me," he said more gently, relaxing his hands and leaning in a little closer. I could hear the yearning in his voice.

I shifted my glare to his other shoulder and pulled his waist sharply back against mine. _Fuck off, Alex_, I thought, _don't ruin this_. Anger was boiling over already. But he wasn't going to let me get away with it this time.

"I don't want just this," he said, running his hands down my body, then holding my head in his palms. "I want _this_. I love _this_."

_What did it matter what he_ _wanted_? I thought savagely. _Since when did he have a right to want anything?_

"_Talk_ to me." Between his eyes and his hands there was no escape.

"I can't," I said through clenched teeth.

"Say anything. I don't care, just talk to me."

"If I do that, I won't be able to, to stop, I'd be so mad-"

"Yell at me then. Scream at me! I just can't take you ignoring me anymore!"

I stopped fighting it, letting the hurt flood in. I pushed him away roughly and walked over to the window, breathing in the cooler air drifting down off the glass.

"You hurt me really bad, Alex."

He let me go on.

"You didn't believe me. I was right there. And you didn't know me."

"I thought they had implanted you with someone else. I didn't know what had happened with those kids, I thought-"

"Alex? I was _right there_!" Was he not hearing me? This was not going to work if he wasn't going to let me talk. My anger redoubled anew.

"I thought they were sending you off planet. I thought I was going to lose you forever."

"So you broke my arm! Just like that!"

"It wasn't... it wasn't just like that. I don't think I could have done it for anyone else. I just wanted you back so bad, I would do anything, anything to keep you with me." He was freakin unbelievable. I hurt you because I love you? Dorsey might swallow that but I never would. Didn't he understand the slightest thing about me? About Souls in general, even?

"You did too much," I muttered.

"I know," he said, his voice hopeless.

"I can't do this." I said, shaking my head and making for the door.

"Flame, please don't go." His hand caught my arm.

"Let go of me."

"I love you," he said sadly, letting his hand drop. The true, aching sadness in his voice leached a hefty proportion of my anger. For a second.

"Yeah well, I love you too," I admitted unhappily. It was unfortunate but true, "But it's not enough, is it?"

"Tell me what I can do?"

"You can't, Alex." He was infuriating, and I spoke with difficulty. "You can't just... buy me flowers and say I'm sorry and expect me to forget that you looked into my face and… argued with me and refused to believe I was me."

"I don't expect you to forget."

"Well the only way I can, I can even stand being in the same room with you is when I am forgetting." I hissed out a sigh of frustration. I didn't blame him if he was confused.

"I would do anything to get you back."

"Yeah, that was the problem in the first place, remember?" I said pointedly. He looked so hurt I had to turn away. He wasn't going to make me feel bad about this. It's just the way it was.

"I've gotta go," I muttered, making for the door, and this time he let me.

I could apply to get the Healers to wipe Alex out of my memory. But wiping Alex out would wipe out most of the last decade. Including Ayasha. I didn't want to lose that again. Instead, I'd cope with the anger and frustration. What worried me though, was if I let the anger burn through me completely, and if there was still something of me left, what would I be left with? There were three things I could think of, and I preferred the anger to the helpless combination of fear, hurt, and love.

***

Yashie was delighted to see me waiting to pick her up from school. It was an all too rare event, I realized guiltily.

"Let's do something this afternoon, you and me," I said as I pulled out of the school car park, "What do you think?"

"Really?" she gasped, and I flinched to think my own daughter should be so surprised.

"Sure. What'll it be?"

"Swim!"

"Perfect," I murmured, heading for the indoor pool. One of the advantages of an afternoon in the pool with a water-crazy child was that exhaustion was assured. I would have a good night's sleep tonight.

Only, as it turned out, I couldn't escape my dreams. I woke up with a strangled cry and stormed silently into Dorsey's room, glaring at her close until she woke up.

"_What_?" she moaned, seriously annoyed.

"I had a dream."

She sighed, shifting onto her side. "Good or bad?" she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"You tell me."

"How on earth should I know, you fruitcake? Ok, fine, bad, because otherwise you would have just gone straight back to sleep like a normal person. So then, bad or worser?"

I eyed her suspiciously.

"Are you gonna tell me about your frikkin dream or not?"

"You were having sex with Alex," I said, disapproval dripping from each word.

"Oh god," she moaned. Not happily. And threw an arm over her face.

"And he was liking it. And when you were done, you rolled off him and said 'I don't know why Flame ever lets you out of the bedroom'."

"And how did he like that," she said from under her arm.

"Not much," I had to admit. But then the idea of being trapped was never particularly palatable to him.

"Ok, you want to know what I think about your stupid dream?" she said, surfacing from under her arm, "I think you dreamt _you_ were bonking Alex, because you _want_ to bonk him, and because I don't know where else you'd get a memory like that from. Only you couldn't accept that it was _you_ having sex with him because you're too much of a _frikkin loonie_, so you chucked poor old defenceless me in your _stupid _dream coz I'm the first person you can think of. But you _know_ Alex wouldn't like that and _that's_ what he didn't like at the end." She wrapped me in her arms so I was pinned to the bed beside her. "Now go back to sleep so I can have my own stupid dreams."

"What happens in your stupid dreams?" I murmured, snuggling into her.

"You don't want to know," she replied, on the edge of sleep.


	14. Chapter ten

10.

Saturday morning was filled with kids scattered around the neighborhood, playing Saturday games. Yash had us searching out the best fallen leaves. It was a little late, and most of them were dull browns, but the occasional red or yellow jewel could still be uncovered.

When we had a good enough collection, we stuck them into a little book and she ran over to show Etty.

Alida was just leaving as Yash pushed past her like she was a coat rack, running into the house and calling for Etty. Alida just shook her head and kept walking.

"Hey Alida!" I called, thinking of something.

She turned back to me and I walked over, waving Dorsey on.

"You know a guy called Diaz?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Sure. Hangs out with the Provis brothers."

"Yeah. Do they hang around the old factories too?"

"Sometimes. Diaz does, anyway. He's there most afternoons."

"With who?"

"No one."

No one? Diaz was at the factories every afternoon… I realized I'd become lost in thought and she'd walked on.

"Hey, thanks," I called after her. She raised a silent hand in response.

Diaz was there every afternoon? Why wasn't he searching for his girlfriend? I'd be searching for her if I didn't know where she was, and thought she'd been kidnapped by a lusty Soul… unless I knew she hadn't. Unless I knew she was safe from him.

Jackson wasn't answering. I left him a message, scrawled a note for Dorsey and set out to find out.

***

The old factory site in the late morning light enclosed deep shadows. I scoured the dusty ground outside carefully until I found it.

A boot print.

A match.

I followed them deep into the complex. They'd worn a trail through the dust. It led the way unwaveringly; these were not the tracks of a kid exploring. Then in the distance I could see a human form slumped against the side of some sort of cage, the type used for locking valuable equipment in, in the old days. I began to run.

"Alasdair!" I put my gun down beside me and dug at his ropes. I was dizzy with relief when his head jerked up. He was just sleeping. He didn't even have any bruises. "You alright?"

"I'm fine. Lily-"

"Get away from him." It was Diaz, and my hand hit concrete where my gun used to be. I turned slowly and saw it in his hands. Held calmly, pointing at the floor, but blood-freezing nonetheless. I edged back.

"Is Lily ok?" Alasdair asked.

"Lily's fine. You knew that, didn't you Diaz. You knew she was back."

He nodded. "I saw her at that Sarah girl's place. Chatting on the verandah like nothing was wrong." He checked Alasdair's ropes, tugging them tight again.

"What are you doing, Diaz?" I asked slowly, "What's going on here?"

He took his time replying, and I sat down not far from Alasdair to help him settle. Finally he sat across from us, too far to rush.

"Her dad told me they'd been seen going to Bethseda. I knew where they were going. I used to play there too, when I was younger. So I went down and found them. I saw them together."

"You got jealous?"

His shoulders sagged just a little.

"No. I realized she never felt anything for me. She was never like that with me. She was… happy with him. But it was wrong."

He examined the gun, unloading and reloading the clip smoothly. He knew what he was doing.

"I just thought, if it wasn't for him, she'd be back home with Charlie. With her family. Where she should be. So I took him away. She never even woke up."

"And then what were you going to do with him?"

"I hadn't thought that far. I brought him here."

I waited, but had to ask, "Have you figured it out yet?"

"Yup. He's a Soul. He can't lie. I'm keeping him here until he agrees to keep away from her."

"How's that going."

"He's a stubborn bastard," Diaz muttered.

"Love'll do that to you," I said impassively.

"Shut up." But his tone was more irritated than angry. He got up and mooched around the other end of the warehouse, fretting.

"Are you alright, Alasdair?" I whispered. He nodded, his trusting Soul eyes gazing at mine.

"He lets me walk around a little each day. He's not interested in hurting you. You don't have to be scared." I wondered if he was telling me or him. I tried to relax a bit. For his sake. "Lily's really ok?"

I nodded.

"Diaz says she's forgotten about me."

I couldn't lie after hearing the pain in his voice.

"No," I whispered softly, "She'd never forget you."

But Diaz had wandered back, and I didn't dare say anything else. We sat in silence for what seemed like hours, Diaz fiddling with my gun, Alasdair dozing against his ropes, me trying to figure out a way to make Diaz let us go.

"You need to let him go," I told him finally, bluntly. Diaz shook his head evenly.

"He'll tell on me. First thing he'll do, he'll tell on me. I'll get sent away. Exile. You don't know what it's like."

"You know someone who does?"

"My brother. He got exiled to the Southern Soul-free zone. The big one. Haven't seen him in years."

"Chet Diaz? That's your brother?"

"Yeah," he muttered. I was stunned, and spoke into the silence that followed almost thoughtlessly.

"You know, I saw your brother down there."

"Stop lying!" he shouted, and I was instantly back in the Kimberley, Alex an inch from my face. My heart flew into overdrive as the room darkened around me and sweat pricked across my back. "Frikkin Seeker. It's a Soul-free zone! _You_ never saw him!"

"What's wrong with your hand," I heard him growl through the blood beating in my ears. He'd noticed how I guarded it curled against my chest. I hunkered over it further, desperately trying to disappear. "Give it to me!"

He was striding towards me, and my breath was coming way too fast. _Don't touch me_, I thought like a mantra, panicking as he got closer and closer, _don't touch me, don't touch me_! But he knelt in front of me anyway and grabbed my hand, forcing the fist into individual separate fingers – and I passed out.


	15. Chapter eleven

11.

When I came to, Jackson was carrying me out of the factory and across the car park, the afternoon sun still bright over the horizon.

"Let go of me," I said, half snarling, and his arms tightened around my legs and back.

"Hang on, we're almost there," he said quietly and calmly. I was not quiet and calm.

"Put me down, Now!" I demanded, shoving my fists hard against his chest. He grimaced but didn't let go. Then I saw Alex and Dorsey waiting on the other side of the Seeker tape, Alex throwing off Dorsey's restraining hand, and I stilled somewhat. The last thing I wanted was to bring him over.

"What are they doing here," I whispered, glaring at them out of the corner of my eye, as he put me down in the back of a Healer van.

"My, aren't you a bundle of laughs today," he sighed, putting himself between them and me so I had to look at him. "I didn't get your message til an hour ago. I checked with Dorsey to see if you were home yet and I guess she freaked out. Got here about two minutes after we did." I tried to peer around him but he sidestepped back into my line of vision and took hold of my shoulders.

"Now, you want to tell me what happened?"

I tried to shake him off and his grip tightened.

"What did he do to you?"

"He didn't do anything!" I yelled, desperate to get his hands off me.

"You were unconscious in a cage and you're trying to make me believe he didn't do anything?" he said over my writhing.

"Let go of her," Dorsey said quietly, coming up quickly behind him.

"Dorsey, if you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to do an interview here?"

"If you hadn't noticed, she doesn't like to be touched. Let her go, and she'll talk."

He looked at her a second then let go of my shoulders. I slumped against the van's rear door frame, breathing hard.

"Where's Yash?" I asked her.

"She's fine, I left her at Margie's."

Jackson silenced her with a glare.

"Well?" he said.

"I fainted."

"Why."

"I… I got scared. But he didn't actually do anything. We were just talking."

Beebe and Montgomery finished with Diaz, and Jackson waved them over.

"You were just talking," he shook his head, "What's wrong with your hand."

It had started to curl again, and I pressed it flat along my thigh.

"Nothing," I muttered.

"Are you alright?" Alex said tightly, jogging over, unable to stand waiting by himself any longer, and my hand immediately curled against my chest again.

"Jesus, what is this?" Jackson exploded as I tried not to shrink away from Alex's hulking form, "Can't you read? Seeker tape? Do not cross? Gomez, get them out of here and secure the perimeter!" He grabbed Alex's shirt himself and dragged him back towards the tape. Montgomery waved Dorsey forward: ladies first. Beebe stayed with me as the Healers finished checking out Alasdair and sauntered over to us. I tucked my arm behind my back.

"Hey, not now, guys, ok?" Beebe told them softly, and I could have praised the ground he walked on.

"I'm fine," I said as brightly as I could while they hesitated.

"I'll make sure she doesn't leave the scene til she's checked out, alright?" Beebe said, and they moved onto Diaz.

"Thanks, Beebe," I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning on the door frame again. I felt him sitting next to me, leaning his back onto the other side of the frame, the van's suspension adjusting for his weight.

"You're scared of Alex," he said after a minute. I was suddenly not quite so relaxed.

"You're afraid of Alex, and you had some kind of flashback in there. Diaz said your hand hurt, but he didn't touch it. You hurt your hand ages ago."

"He's right, he didn't touch it."

"What's going on?" Jackson said, joining us.

"Some sort of post traumatic stress thing."

"Flame?"

"I don't want to talk about it. It's not relevant to the case."

"It's relevant to me when my partner faints in the middle of taking a suspect."

"I wasn't - I didn't-"

"You know what I mean. It's affecting your work, Flame. What happened."

"I told you. I just got scared, and I must have fainted."

"That's what Diaz says too," Beebe confirmed. Jackson blew out his breath in exasperation and moved onto Alasdair. I concentrated on not thinking about the Kimberley. It wasn't working very well.

"There's a lot of people don't like watching you suffer, and you're not opening up to any of them," Beebe said quietly. "I'm not saying you have to tell me now, I'm just saying you're going to tell me about it. Alright?"

I nodded, watching the sunset with more concentration that it deserved.

"Alright. Now do you want to give me a proper statement?"

I cleared my kind of the Kimberley and recounted the day's events, feeling the familiar routine calming me.

"Good," Beebe said, taking some final notes, "We'll finish up here. You right to get home?"

"I think Dorsey'll take me."

Beebe went over to let her past Montgomery, and left me to the Healers' prodding.

"What did you have to bring him for?" I muttered to her as soon as she arrived, flicking my eyes to Alex, still hovering by the tape.

"Maybe he's here for me, not you," she said, her voice twisting with irritation. But she relented at the sudden look I shot her.

"It's alright, you dope, he's here for you," she muttered, shoving my shoulder, "we didn't know what had happened to you, you're not exactly a sure thing these days."

The Healers finally left me and I could start to relax again, really starting to feel the length of the day.

"They want to know what happened in the Kimberley," I said quietly.

"What, because I brought Alex? He hardly even said anything!"

"Bloody Comforter saw how I reacted, reckons I've got post traumatic stress or something."

"Shit," she breathed, "No, that's good. At least they can make you do something about it."

"I don't want to do anything about it. I just want to forget about it."

"Well that's not working very well, is it?" she said. My own personal forget-me-not. "Besides, you can't forget about it. It's part of who you are now."

I let my gaze slide over to Alex, pacing back and forth with his fingers twined above his head.

"Don't torture him Flame," Dorsey said softly, "It makes you no better than him."

But I couldn't face him today.

"Let's go home," I dropped off the back of the van and started for the car, "Yash will be getting worried."

"Uh, Flame?"

"What?"

"I sort of drove Alex here…," then she caught sight of my face. I was trying very hard not to break.

"Never mind. He can catch a cab," she murmured, and I walked on.

***

Later that night, Yash in bed, I sat with Dorsey on the couches, sipping at a wine. I didn't usually enjoy it, but wanted something tonight to settle me. Slowly, things were fitting into place. Yash was settled, case was closed, and Sunday stretched gloriously empty ahead. As my thoughts calmed, they kept returning to the memory of Alex pacing back and forth along the Seeker tape barrier.

I stood up and grabbed the car keys and my bag.

"Flame?"

"I'm going to go see Alex." And I was out of the door before she could come up with a suitable reply.

I drove steadily, methodically, but the road ahead lay beneath the image of Alex and the Seeker tape line. Do Not Cross. And he hadn't. He had wanted to, but he hadn't. The man I had ignored today was an entirely different man from the one that plagued my memories of the Kimberley.

I rang the doorbell, feeling like I was in a time loop that I couldn't break out of. But I wanted to break out this time.

He opened it slowly, his eyes careful.

"Hi."

"Hi."

It was like I had a physical block stopping me from interacting with him. Probably for my own protection. I fought it and cherished it at the same time.

"Are you coming in?"

"Yes," I decided.

I sat on the counter Dorsey style. He kept his distance. This should have been a good thing, but I hated the way he acted as if it were me the predator and him the prey.

"Bad day?" he said.

"Good day. Case closed, no one hurt… happy ending."

He watched me carefully.

"You're alright then?"

I nodded. As much as I ever was, anyway.

"You're not going to go away, are you," I said, tired of fighting against both him and myself. I was sick of the hurt in his eyes. "I dream of you every bloody night. I doesn't matter what I do, you won't leave me alone."

"Do you want me to?"

"No…" I murmured. Yes and no. Tonight, mainly no. Tomorrow… who knows. Probably yes. But I knew I would still love him tomorrow. That would never change. Love was a stubborn bastard. He edged a little closer.

"What do you want then."

_I don't know_.

"I just… I just wanted to come over and… see you. I just sort of left this afternoon. Everything was just too much. Jackson and Beebe… they don't get it. Dorsey's always pushing me too, just… _relentlessly_, and … I don't really know what I'm doing here." I stared at the carpet, its wool trapped into beige honeycombs repeating endlessly across the floor. "_You stayed behind the tape_. It's just a piece of tape, but you respected that." I shook my head hopelessly.

"Your hand… it was all curled up…?"

"Its fine," I whispered, stretching it out in my lap so he could see each perfect finger. He took it gently, sliding his fingertips along the side of each finger, feeling the smooth scars and the healed tissues beneath. My heart was in my throat, frozen hard, blocking my breathing, waiting for the pain to start, but just like in my dream, his touch drew the fear away.

_But he didn't know about my dream_. I hadn't told anyone. My heart revived slowly, and my breathing eased past it as it gradually settled back into my chest. I took careful deep breaths to catch up the oxygen I'd missed. Still his fingers stayed gentle, holding my hand between his, his warm palms embracing mine tenderly. He put my hand over his on my leg, resting his other hand on top, and played little melodies on my thigh. I could hear the music, just faintly, like it was in a distant room.

I let my other hand slide up his shoulder, jumped to the base of his ear, comb through his hair. Gently, slowly, like I hadn't felt them in years. He didn't want to hurt me. I could feel this like it was a solid object, not a thought. And I didn't want to hurt him. Not even a little bit.

My hand curled around the back of his head, and he leant in towards me, our lips just grazing each other, but they felt like they were burning. He put my other hand onto his chest, straight above his heart, like tempting me to dig in and pull it out. He brushed his fingertips along my forearms, making me suck in a hiss of physical happiness.

"Let's go to the bedroom," he said, pulling out from my kiss and resting his forehead on mine.

"After," I said, pulling him back.

'There's going to be an after?" he said, turning and smiling against my cheek.

"Shut up," I whispered, trapping him with my legs around his.


	16. Chapter twelve

12.

The phone went on and on, and I knew it had to be Jackson long before I'd given up trying to pretend it wasn't real , trying to convince myself to ignore it, hoping against hope that Alex would deal with it, and finally given up and tracked it down to under the living room couch. How the hell did it get there? I wondered as I answered it, then remembered, blushing.

"Wake up, Bright Eyes, we got a case."

"You're kidding me, its 3am."

"Nope, I'm even outside your house already."

_Shit_.

"Thought you'd appreciate the extra few seconds sleep."

I felt like I'd only _had_ a few seconds sleep. I would have appreciated a few more hours sleep. Like six. My brain hurt trying to think.

"I'm not at my house."

"Oh. Where are you?"

"Alex's." I stiffened, waited for the ribbing, but his silence told me he'd decided to respond with raised eyebrows.

"Give me the address," he said impassively.

I gave it to him.

"See you in 5."

I began to hunt down my clothes, trying belatedly for quietness.

"You're leaving," a fuzzy voice came from the doona.

"I've got a case." I muttered. Stupid, _stupid_ Flame!

He said nothing, and started tracking down my shoes.

I waited for Jackson on the steps outside the building, as far away from Alex's apartment as I could get. The early morning cold was biting. The deserted lamplit streets made it look like the city was completely empty of people. It was a comforting thought.

"Here," Alex said, startling me. I had come down alone. But there he was, standing behind me, holding his jacket out to me. I didn't move. "Just take it, it's frikkin cold."

I put my arms into the sleeves from the front so my chin rested by the tag, and was surrounded by a world of Alex's scent. My goose bumps started to relax and I glanced back belatedly to thank him, but he was gone again.

I scowled into the tag. What was wrong with me? I couldn't keep away from him for more than a day? Why did he have such a power over me? He didn't deserve to have any hold on me at all.

Jackson pulled up and I jumped in beside him, the central heating enveloping me.

"Give me your coat," I said, shedding Alex's and fossicking around on the back seat.

"What's wrong with that one?" he asked as he drove away.

"It's Alex's." I pulled on Jackson's coat and did up my seat belt around it. I stared at the road being eaten up between our wheels, thankful that Jackson was keeping his thoughts to himself.

"So do want to know about the case or you going to try and guess when we get there?"

"Right. Sorry. What's the deal?"

"Unidentified body. Char grilled, by the sounds of it."

"What?"

"You'll see."

Half an hour later we pulled up next to the blackened frame of a car, a twisted charcoal body inside. The smell took me back to Blackheath's charred corpse in the desert.

We took down what was known so far. It wasn't much. A truck driver had seen the fire in the field and reported it. When he arrived, this was all there was. Jackson directed the other teams arriving on site, making sure everyone did their job despite the terrible hour.

"Not much more we can do til forensics is done. How about some shut eye before getting started on the paper work? You look like you could use it," he said, walking back to the car through the frosty grass.

I could definitely use it. I must have got a whole hour's sleep tonight. Two at most. I almost dozed off in the car til I noticed him making for the wrong exit off the free way.

"You're not dropping me home?" He didn't think I was snoozing at his place, did he?

"I'm dropping you at your car. At Alex's."

Bugger. That's right.

***

He pulled up out the front of the apartment building, and I leapt out as soon as I could.

"Wait," he called.

"What?"

"Don't forget this!"

He held up the discarded jacket through the open door. I grabbed it crossly. Great, just what I needed.

"You don't think I should check up on him, make sure you weren't murdering him in the night?"

"No," I said, struggling to hold on to my patience.

"You sure looked like you could murder him yesterday."

"No I didn't." _Stupid lying human_.

"So if you weren't murdering him last night, what were you doing there, at 3 in the morning?"

"What do you think," I growled, shutting the door in his face and escaping into the building.

I could just drop the jacket outside his door. No one would take it. And I could disappear. I loved this idea. I crept down the corridor, dumped it quietly, and padded quickly away.

The dawn chill nipped at me as I dug through my bag in front of my car. My keys, my keys… were not in my bag... Blast.

I last saw them… last night; I couldn't get the zip open and had shoved them in my pockets in frustration. The pockets of my pants… shit. My keys could be anywhere in that apartment. I turned back to the building, fate dragging at my shoulders.

He opened the door looking like a zombie. I'd woken him up. Again.

"Forget something?" he said, rubbing at his forehead.

"My keys," I muttered, shoving his jacket at him as I pushed past. I got on my hands and knees and peered under the counter, the table, the couch… finally I noticed him still standing by the door, my keys in his hand.

"Oh. Thanks." _Brilliant Seeker Gone Blind: Headquarters Mourns Loss of Eagle Eyes Hungry Flame_.

"You look like shit. I'll make you some coffee." He sure knew how to flatter a girl. I migrated to the bedroom, putting some distance between us. I was just going to lie down for a minute, just til the water boiled, and then my phone rang.

"Good morning!" the combined gleeful voices of Dorsey and Yash sang. I glanced at my watch. 7:30?! How did that happen? I had just closed my eyes…!

"You spent the night at Alex's!" Dorsey said, the delight dripping from her voice.

"Aaah… yup." No point denying it.

"You are still there?"

"Mm-hmm." I tried not to be riled by her amused tone.

"Did we wake you guys up?"

"Uh, Alex's in the kitchen. Making coffee." _I think_. I glanced at the door but it was shut. He was letting me sleep. Or imprisoning me. One of them, anyway.

"You are _not_ having breakfast there!"

"Um… no?"

"You haven't forgotten what day it is, have you?"

Oh bugger.

"Pancake day," I muttered at the same time as Yash sang it. "Alright, I'll be over as soon as I can."

Alex was reading the newspaper over the countertop as I came in and reached for my coffee. It was stone cold.

"I'll make you a fresh one?" he said as I swirled it sadly.

"No I've got to get going," I said, sticking in the microwave, "Pancake day."

He turned away so I wouldn't see the hurt in his face, but I saw it anyway in the tightness of his shoulders. Yet another thing to have missed with Yash. I would hate not being able to watch her grow up. I would hate it just as bad as him. I sighed, stopping the endless rotation of the microwave.

"You want to come?"

***

He was so wrapt with spending the morning with Yash he didn't notice my growing irritation. It wasn't til Dorsey and Yash went out the back to pick another lemon, and his arm unthinkingly draping over my shoulders, that he noticed something was wrong, my shoulders tight and sharp beneath his hand.

"Flame?" His arm bounced back as if it were burnt and I made my escape , coming to a rest in the chill of the front steps. They were all acting as if everything was fine. One big happy family. As if what had happened in the Kimberley didn't matter. Well it mattered to me.

"You're upset," he said, coming up behind me.

No shit Sherlock. I stared hard at the street.

"This is my house. This is my life. You can't just come in here as if nothing happened and take over."

He stood in front of me so he could make me meet his eyes.

"I thought you wanted me to come. I thought you wanted to be with me."

"I did it for Yash, I didn't do it for me," I muttered, dragging my eyes away.

"And last night?" he countered.

"Fuck off, Alex."

"You can't-"

"Fuck. Off."

My hand itched towards my Glock, and I held my hands together tight.

He turned away in exasperation, washing his hands of me. I didn't wait to see if he got a taxi. I was sick of looking at him.

"Where's Alex?" Dorsey asked as I came back in.

"He went home."

"Oh," she put the lemon down carefully, "Speaking of which… it's about time I headed home too."

"You're going? But… this is your home."

She smiled.

"My other home then. With my own partner and daughter." I looked at her, lost. She was leaving me? Now? "Things seem to be getting better between you and Alex, George will be arriving any day anyhow, and… I really miss them."

I had been selfish. Of course she would be missing them. I felt this was not the best time to tell her I had just sent Alex packing. She needed to be home. I hugged her tight.

"Say hello to Bhask for me," I mumbled into her shoulder.

"Come and say hello yourself one day. Soon."


	17. Tracks in the snow ch 1

**

* * *

**

**Tracks in the snow**

*****

"_The tracks, clear and crisp in the snow, had disappeared into the snowstorm. And Alex with them."_

An anti-Soul group from the North is stretching its wings, making its mark on the Soul cities. Flame and Alex are caught in the conflict. Who will be saved and who will be sacrificed?

* * *

1.

I missed Dorsey. I missed her calm confidence, her noisy chatter, her nosy teasing... I even missed her constant bugging about Alex. And the fact that I'd fainted in the middle of an investigation scared me almost as much as reliving the experience did. I didn't want any more flashbacks, and I was not sure my career could handle them either.

Monday morning, I found myself waiting for Beebe in his office. He played me a recording. It was from outside, and I realized he must have talked to her at the old factory.

_"You know what happened?"_

Beebe's voice . It was easy to recognize his careful, thoughtful, tone. _"She told you?"_

I heard Dorsey's voice.

_"She never tells anyone. I saw it."_

_"What happened."_

_"She'd kill me if I told you."_

_"She told us she had a disagreement with Alex."_

_"Yeah, basically."_

_"She hurt her hand. It had something to do with Alex. She's afraid of him now, she doesn't want anything to do with him. Did he hurt her?"_

_"It's her story. Get her to tell you."_

The recording clicked to an end.

"Do you tape everyone you talk to you?" I asked, my eyes skittering over his bare office and finding nothing to rest on.

"You don't?" he replied, coming to sit in the other chair, "Must be a Comforter thing."

He waited til I decided not to back out. I didn't want to do this on my own. He'd offered to help. I would let him. I would.

"How did you hurt your hand?" he asked softly.

"Alex broke it," I said before I could change my mind.

"I can see how you might disagree with that."

"Yeah." _I would not back out. I would not back out._

"Did he have some kind of a reason?"

I told him how I had been captured, how they thought I had been reimplanted, how he tried to make me tell him where they were keeping me.

Beebe was silent for a long time.

"You can't tell anyone," I whispered.

"Of course."

"Not anyone. Ever."

"Jackson said you were at Alex's place the other night."

_Frikkin Jackson_.

"Yeah."

"What was that about."

"I don't know… part of me... kind of… misses him."

"You still love him."

"I guess."

"That complicates matters."

"Sure does," I sighed. Life would be so much easier if I could just forget him. But I didn't want to forget some parts of him. _When he was good he was very very good, and when he was bad he was horrid_…

"Good." Beebe tidied the pens on his desk.

"Good?" I asked, surprised.

"You did good today." He looked like he was moving onto his casework.

"That's it?"

"Yup. You want to talk more, you know where I am."

I stared at him. "You're a lousy Comforter."

"Thank you."

I guess, from me, it was high praise.

***

Jackson was already at work, looking up the forensic results from the burnt car.

"What have we got?" I asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Accelerant was a weird one, never seen that mix before. Car was stolen a few hours before. Guy was dead before they lit him."

"Well that's something."

"No matches for him on our database. I've sent it to InterSeek, but it smacks of Soul-free zone business to me. I don't like the chances of ever finding a match." Inter-zone cooperation was notoriously minimal. "Anyway, what are you doing in today? Isn't this supposed to be your day off? Make up for Saturday?"

"Ugh, don't talk about Saturday," I groaned.

"Hey, you did good. Case closed, no one hurt, right?"

"Yeah."

"You're all smiles this morning," he muttered.

"I miss Dorsey, I guess," I said distractedly.

"Why, where's she gone?" he looked at me, surprised.

"Back to her husband."

"She's _married_?"

"Basically."

Montgomery and half a dozen others gathered, crestfallen.

"Like, permanently?"

"Sorry."

There were dark mutterings amongst the guys and Jackson led me away.

"Don't mind them. It's just thrown their little betting game on its head," he said. I didn't want to know what they were betting on. "Go home and see that kid of yours."

I smiled.


	18. Chapter II

2.

Yash needed new shoes. Now was as good a time as any to get them. School wouldn't miss her for one day. What's the worst that could happen, she'd be behind in colouring? And I felt the urge to make up for Saturday.

It felt like a holiday as we wandered through the department store. Yash was grinning at the unexpected prize of getting her mother to herself for a whole day, instead of battling for the attention of the teachers with all the other kids.

Another Seeker was there, a woman attached to the store to sort out customer troubles, look after lost children and so on. We chatted briefly and I moved into the shoe aisle, happy that I didn't have such a dull job. Stuck inside a store all day, how mind numbing. It didn't occur to me that she might think it preferable to checking out charred corpses at three on a Sunday morning.

"What about these?" I proffered a bright white pair, knowing Yash hated white.

"Yuck," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"We could paint zebra stripes on them. Your feet would be riding zebras all day."

She took the shoes slowly, considering this image while I tried not to grin.

"Ummmm," she said indecisively, and I took it back from her, swapping it for a blue pair. A smile lit her face instantly.

A gunshot ripped through my holiday mood. It was close, only a few aisles away. I dropped to the floor, covering Ayasha. The screams of the other shoppers were all too quickly silenced.

"Not a word," I breathed in Yash's ear, straining to hear what was going on. I peered under the shelving, watching pairs of black boots combing the aisles. Methodically. They were good. Organized.

"We're moving," I breathed in Yash's ear, "Like a centipede ok? Keep under me," We crawled to the end of the aisle, away from them, where a column would hide us from anyone peering under the shelving as I had. I peeked around the edge. A body lay flung onto the linoleum, still draining blood. The Seeker; they'd shot her in the head. Execution style. This did not look good.

"Freeze!"

I glanced back and froze instantly, recognizing a Glock pointing my way. A scout had entered my aisle in advance of the others, moving silently. They were very good. I did not want to be perceived as a threat to the likes of these. Thank God I had nothing on me to identify me as a Seeker.

"Get up." The scout said, having come up next to me. I got up slowly, pulling Ayasha up behind me. "Start walking." He walked me out the back of the store, into the storage areas. They'd cleared an equipment cage and were storing hostages there instead. Before they entered, they searched each person methodically, taking phones, wallets, belts, shoes, scarfs, coats, anything that could conceal, attack, communicate, anything that could be used against them. Then they tied each one a metre apart along the inside of the cage, Souls on the right, humans on the left. Yash and I were put with the Souls. I watched our captors ravenously, taking note of identifying features, weapons, spare clips, positions, everything, everything. When I got out, Jackson would grill me, and he would need to know every little bit I could tell him.

They all looked very similar, same shoes, pants, jackets, gloves, balaclavas. I wondered how they identified each other. I then I suddenly realized I recognized these people: the ruthlessness, the organization, the professionalism. I was willing to bet they were the same lot that shot down the plane on the peace rally Sunday. That threw Alex into a frozen lake and left him for dead. I had seen two of them in Alex's memories. A third might've been driving the car. It was strange to think I had looked upon their faces and there was no way they could recognize me.

Two of them walked along the line of Souls.

"Who's got the most to lose?" one said to himself, inspecting us each in turn.

"You," he said, settling in front of me and Yash. I tucked Yash further beneath me with my elbows.

"Can she keep quiet?" he said, chin pointing at Yash.

"Yash?" I whispered.

She nodded.

"She'll keep quiet," I said, soft and low.

"Get up. Start walking."

We climbed the stairs to the management offices that stared out over the whole store below. The sudden height, the deserted store stretching out below us, made me feel dizzy, and I fought to stayed focused. I had to keep my fear under control, for Yash's sake. A man in the same balaclava as the others sat in a leather swivel chair pulled out from behind the manager's desk. But from his confident stillness I guessed he was the boss.

I was pushed into a chair in front of him, and Yashie's arms tightened around my neck. The boss pulled her off me and sat her on his knee, her legs dangling almost to the floor like a stringless puppet. He held her there with one hand around her upper arm, pressing the side of his gun against her soft skin. I concentrated on trying to breath, my eyes stuck on that gun on by baby's arm.

"You are going to talk to the Seekers for us. You will tell them only what we tell you to say. You say anything, imply anything, we're not happy with…" he rubbed the gun up and down her arm as if comforting her. But I got the message. He dialed a number and put me on speaker phone, pushing a sheet of paper towards me. I tried to wring moisture out of my dry mouth as it rang.

"Seeker Headquarters, what can we do for you?" a pleasant voice said.

"I am talking on behalf of the people in control of the store." I read. With effort, I could keep the shake out of my voice, but the terror transmitted loud and clear anyway.

"They have secured the building. No one is to attempt to enter. If anyone attempts to enter the building, a hostage will be killed. No one is to approach the building. If anyone attempts to approach the building, a hostage will be killed. If there are any sounds of tunneling, a hostage will be killed."

A familiar voice took over.

"This is Seeker Beebe here. We understand. Can you tell us what they want? Why are they doing this?"

Beebe! He would have recognized my voice. At least they knew I was here. I waited blankly for my next cue. The boss pointed at another paragraph on my sheet, eyes impassive.

"They are letting you know they can get you anywhere they want. At any time." That was bad. No specific demands. Just a show of force. By his silence I could hear Beebe thinking along the same lines.

The dark gloved finger shifted to another line and tapped.

"They, they have no argument with the humans here. They are prepared to swap their human hostages for Seekers. One Seeker for every human hostage." My heart jammed in my throat. Yash was human, but I was not. Would they separate us?

"Ok. How many human hostages do they have?"

I squinted as he wrote quickly.

"Uh… thirty three."

"Are any of the hostages injured?"

I waited for his nod.

"Yes."

"Are any of the hostages dead?"

"Yes."

The boss terminated the call instantly and my heart froze. He ran his finger slowly back and forth under where his lip would be beneath the mask.

"You don't. Say anything. Unless. _I_. Tell you to," he said, his voice hard as ice.

I pretended to have made a mistake. But I didn't have to pretend to be horrified. I just let it show, where normally, I wouldn't have given him the satisfaction.

"I'm, I'm sorry," I stuttered, when I realized he wasn't going to punish us instantly.

"Alright. Take her away." Another masked thug grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door.

"Yashie!" I shouted, panicked.

"She stays with me."

"No, please!"

Yashie began to wail, softly at first, but louder and louder like an approaching siren. He shoved her away and I grabbed her, shushing away her distress.

"Lock them in an office," he muttered, turning away.

The office had been stripped of anything useful, no phones, computers, even the blinds had been taken away. But at least it let me keep an eye on the flow of people.

After a while, another Soul was brought, shaking so hard he could hardly walk. I suppose the other hostages thought I'd been killed, never having returned. It sounded like this was my replacement. I could just hear the stilted rhythms of someone reading out a prepared statement. I listened intently, trying to make out the words. All I could hear was him stumbling more and more, and then a cry. A pause, then a desperate calling for help. It got instantly clearer as he was dragged out into the corridor and down the stairs. The boss waved towards me, and another man came to fetch us. The Boss took Yashie again, keeping to the centre of the room. I was pushed against the far window, which had a view over the front entrance. I saw the Soul walking stiffly out of the door, holding another Soul by the hand. _Someone who had something to lose_, I thought. I wanted to shout at them, warn them, but I could do nothing. They thought, hoped against hope, they were being freed. But they were Souls. These people would never free them just like that. They would be used as an example. They crept across the emptied road, you could see in their faces they thought they were almost there, almost safe… A Seeker exited the building opposite and beckoned to them , and as soon as they started to run, they were shot down. A sniper each, clean shots to the head. They lay bleeding out in the centre of the road, and no one could dare approach them. We all watched them die.

"His work was unsatisfactory. Learn from it." The boss said, and I looked back at him, desperate to snatch Yashie from his arms. I kept still, and nodded.

"Sit down, and let's continue," he said, swiveling back towards the desk. The thug next to me stuck by my side like glue as I made my way over to my designated seat. I took up the sheet that the boss pushed towards me, and he pressed the speed dial.

"Beebe here."

I could tell he was in shock, but he covered it well.

"Are your Seekers assembled?"

"We need more time."

"You have twenty minutes."

And then we were sent back to our bare office, to count down the 20 minutes in silence, wondering if it would be the last twenty minutes I'd ever have with my baby.

At fifteen, the door opened.

"Get up," the thug said. I staggered to my feet, pulling Yash into my arms, keeping her head pressed to my chest.

"Move." We were headed downstairs, joining a group of humans being herded towards the entrance. We were being swapped for Seekers. On the other side of the glass, I could just make out two orderly rows of Seeker uniforms. The thugs stopped before they would be visible from the road, ushering us forward. I didn't dare glance around. I knew the snipers would be right on us. A few more steps… We were passing the double line of Seekers, almost into the street. I recognized those two guys who just transferred up from down south and….

_Alex_.

"No!" I hissed in shock. He didn't even meet my eyes. He was dressed like a Seeker. But he was no Seeker. He was swapping himself for me and Yash.

"_No_!"

But the others dragged me forward and the swap continued swiftly and seamlessly. I was bundled into a Healing van before I knew it.


	19. Chapter III

3.

"Let me go!" I pleaded frantically. The Healers checked us over quickly, despite my frenzied resistance. "_I'm fine_!"

"They're fine," the Healers confirmed, and I noticed Jackson sitting at the back of the van.

"What have you got for me?" he said evenly.

"That was Alex!" I shouted at him, "You can't let him do that!"

"His choice. His idea, actually."

"He's not a Seeker!"

"Focus, Flame, it's done. You're safe. It's what he wanted. Let's move forward on getting him back."

"Jesus Christ, Jackson!"

"Don't scare Yash. Help us get him back."

I tried to catch my breath, glaring at him. He was right. I couldn't panic now. We had to focus on getting him back.

"Alright, alright, I think there's eight of them, they've occupied both floors of the building, there's a mezzanine with the management offices, that's where they call you from…" I gave him every detail I could think of.

"How dangerous do you think they are," he asked finally.

"Uh… very. They killed like its nothing. I think, I think that's what they came to do. I think that's what they wanted the Seekers for… We have _got_ to get them out of there!"

"Ok, good work," he said, making some final notes, sending his report to all the Seeker hand-helds, and dialling a number. "Put me through to Beebe." He dug something out of his shirt pocket and put it in my hand, "He wanted me to give you this."

Icefire's pendant, my wedding ring strung on the chain as well. I looked at it in horror. He knew he wasn't coming back. He knew he was going to die. No, it was just in case. He couldn't know. I think I could have accepted the death of the man that broke my hand in the Kimberley. But I hadn't seen any sign of that man for a long time. Yashie's father… somehow every fibre in my body strained against losing him. I tied the pendant firmly round my neck. I would give it back to him. I would give it back to him.

The van stopped and we got out, still in the city, a block back from the store, in an undercover carpark. Jackson finished relaying my information to Beebe personally as he led me through the concrete space. Two Seekers guarded the entry into the building.

"Go with Sandy, he'll take you to where they've got the blueprints, mark down what's changed, where people are. Then look after that kid ok? Get some rest. Sandy; find her some shoes?"

"Jackson, don't shut me out of this," I said, keeping close to him.

"I'll wake you up before anything goes down. It might not be for hours. I'll need you bright and sparky then, alright?"

It was a mark of how well he knew me, that he judged me just sufficiently past it to believe him.

He didn't even have the grace to let me know he'd lied face to face; he sent Montgomery to tell me.

"Flame, wake up." He shook my shoulder gently. I squinted at his face, and sat up sharply to read the shock and exhaustion written across his normally quiet features.

"Shh, don't wake up Yash," he whispered. We waited til she settled again, and he sat carefully beside me, his body sagging into the wall.

"They've lost them," he said. I struggled for meaning and lost.

"What?"

"They lost communications, they stormed the place: they were gone. The whole place was booby trapped and burnt to the ground. We lost all the swapped Seekers. All of them. And the Souls."

_All of them_… fury, grief, and disbelief fought each other inside me, and I understood Montgomery's face. How could they have been so stupid to trust these people? But if they had not agreed to the swap, Yash would have been lost too. Now, instead of Yash, Alex…

"Alex…" I breathed.

"No. No sign of him. We ID'ed the bodies. They must have taken him with them."

I stared at him in disbelief, but my mind was only to ready to accept. It was certainly not ready to lose him yet. This was an option we could live with.

"Where?"

"Our best guess is North."

"Where's Jackson?"

"Under the store."

"_Under_ it?"

But Montgomery just stared back at me, and I realized he needed to rest.

"Will you sit with Yashie for a minute?" I asked him gently, and his nod seemed to come from far away.

***

The other Seekers directed me to the empty blackened remains of the stuffed, shiny store I had been shopping in only this morning, down a ladder concealed in a store room to a cavernous tunnel below.

Jackson stood as if centre stage, directing forensic teams while examining the disaster for himself.

Jackson had judged it right. I was much too emotionally involved to be fully trusted. But I was not going to let him get away with it. I strode right up to him and slapped him in the face.

"Don't you ever lie to me again. You are my partner. You're gonna shut me out, tell me you're gonna shut me out."

"I didn't have time to argue with you-"

"Then tell me you don't have time to argue with me! Just don't ever lie to me again."

We stared at each other, and I could see he understood me clearly.

"Alright."

"Alright," I said, accepting his undertaking, letting the anger go, "What is this." I looked around at the cavernous space around me.

"This is how they got in and out. Links into to the metro tunnels, the sewers…"

"How on earth did this get missed?"

He shrugged. "No one was looking for it." He stared down the tunnel in silence.

"Any idea where they went?"

"Dogs tracked them part of the way. Looks like they had vehicles. So not really, no."

"Montgomery said North."

He nodded grimly.

"Hawthorne."

"Yeah," he breathed.

_The arctic fox_, I thought. Jackson was looking into the blackness like into the burrow of a monster.


	20. Chapter IV

4.

I found out later they were hours ahead of us. They had set up one of the Souls to maintain communications while they made their escape, soon after the swap. The terrified Soul had kept up their task for hours, but had eventually run out of text to read out, and didn't dare say anything else.

And their lead only grew, as we waited on Seeker reinforcements from other cities, and a better idea of where they had gone. I felt like I was suffocating.

"We know they must have gone north, at least let's go to Churchill; we'll be that much closer," I begged Jackson. Anything but waiting around here. It had almost been 24 hours, and I was desperate. He did what he could, and as soon as sufficient Seekers were assembled, a cargo plane was sent to fly us North.

***

Yash sat on Alida's bed, her eyes latched onto me as if they could prevent me from going by will alone. A much loved velveteen rabbit, donated by Etty, suffered in her overzealous embrace.

"Mummy's going to go get Daddy now," I told her softly, smoothing her hair, "Yash is going to stay here, ok? It's safe here."

"Mummy's coming back?" she whispered.

"Of course. With Daddy."

I kissed her head and hugged her tight and abandoned her quickly, before Margie or my tears could catch up with me.

"You're being selfish, Hungry Flame!" Margie called after me, chasing me as I fled the house. "Let the others do their job. Your daughter has had a prick of a time. Stay with her. She needs you!"

"She needs a father too," I muttered, getting into the waiting car and slamming the door. As we drove to the airport, I began to weep helplessly. Jackson drove in silence. I couldn't endanger Yash by bringing her with me. And I had to find Alex. I had no choice. Didn't mean I liked it. I was very very far from liking it.

Shepherds Sound was waiting for us in the cargo hangar, pacing up and down beside a large container.

"What's this?" I asked.

"New toys," Jackson muttered.

"They're not toys, Seeker Jackson," Shep remonstrated. "They are new technology, if you must. Almost untested in the field. You treat them well."

"What is it, Shep?" I asked a little guardedly. Shep being enthused about something always made me feel apprehensive.

"First batch of Empty Shells." He showed us into the container. Two rows of human cold storage tanks lined the sides. All occupied. It was like walking into a morgue.

"A Seeker wounded in the field doesn't need to be stuck in cold storage limbo til another host is found. You can pop them into one of these babies, and you can gather their Intel straight away. Back in the field in hours."

"But these are children…" I whispered, my fingers pressing against the cold glass, staring at the still young faces inside.

"They are human?" Jackson asked.

"Technically. But they have no minds."

"How can that be?" I asked, horrified.

"They have never been awake, not since gestation, if you can call that awake. They have spent their whole lives in cold storage, just warm enough to develop physically but not mentally. The perfect solution for all our Soul problems on earth. No ethical problems whatsoever."

"How did you do this?"

"Test tube babies. We're breeding our future! And, a few were unwanted babies…"

I knew 'test tube' gestation had come a long way in the past decade, so that unborn children could spend sensitive parts of their gestation safely in the laboratory. But what did he mean, unwanted babies…? Surely Soul parents would not be irresponsible enough for unplanned pregnancies.. apart from me... and if he meant humans – how did he _know_ they were unwanted? Shep liked to believe what he wanted to believe. I doubted that he really cared where the children came from. I realized he was still talking and tuned back in.

"This way we can seperate the generations, like with our other hosts. That's how it's meant to be, for us. Mothering isn't really a Soul thing. It's not conducive to the future of the species."

My words jammed in my throat, too many protests trying to come out at once. Jackson shot me a look, and I closed my mouth. A Soul who was leaving her daughter behind didn't really have the right to argue.

"Especially after the Kimberley, our supply is insufficient to replace ourselves," Shep went on regardless, "It has become critical. People don't want to leave here. Falling Smoke didn't want to leave."

"Yes he did," I said quickly, automatically.

"How do you know? He had so much unfinished work…"

_Because he told me_, I thought, but shook my head free of Falling Smoke. "But our hosts have important information about this world, their history, their _humanity_…"

"At this stage it's for 2nd human host Souls only," he assured me, "they will have got all that information from their last human host."

"But, but their emotions will be children's emotions, their capability to control themselves…"

"Will be that of a Soul. The Soul is in control here. Flame, you always look for the reason _why not_. Its healthy I'm sure, for me to have to enlighten you, keeps me on the straight and narrow, eh? But you must not expect them to be perfect. They are only at field testing stage."

"You don't make an omelette without breaking eggs," Jackson murmured.

"Exactly, Jackson."

"Well, if we have the opportunity we'll give them a spin. But right now, we need to be heading North." Jackson was already heading for the plane.

"Of course," Shep said, having to raise his voice as we left, "I look forward to your _detailed _notes when you return."


	21. Chapter V

5.

The plane headed north into the ice covered land.

During the flight I went over all our data. The photos of the burnt bodies, the forensic reports, the photos of the tunnel under the building.

"Have we got forensics back on this yet?" I asked, pointing to the burnt bodies. Jackson checked his watch.

"Should be done by now. I'll get them to fax it through."

I collected each page as the fax fed them to me and studied them "Same accelerant as the guy in the car. Remember that weird combination? Looks like they were trying it out."

"Poor sucker who got to try it."

I immediately thought of Alex. What were they trying on him? _No_. Less thinking about him, more thinking about getting him back.

North. Winter. Everything covered in snow. They would leave tracks. Unless it was snowing…

I checked the satellite maps. Bingo.

"Jackson, it's snowing across this whole area here. Has been for days."

"So?"

"So snow is the perfect cover. We need to look for vehicles that came in or out of that area in the past few days."

"I'll get the satellite people onto it."

Finally I couldn't squeeze anything else out the data and sat back, resting my aching eyes. I hadn't slept since Montgomery had woken me up to say that Alex was gone. Now, at last, we were at least getting close to him. The possibility of sleep was coming back to me. But thoughts of the mindless children cold stored in the hold below drifted through my mind, distracting me from thinking about Alex. What would happen if they woke up without a Soul?

"You know, some people are thinking this looks pretty bad for Alex," Jackson pointed out. I marveled at his tact.

"We'll find him," I muttered.

"No, I mean: he's the only one that survived. These are people he's met before…" Then I saw what he was getting at. That it was no coincidence that they had taken him. That he was with them, had been with them all along.

"They tried to kill him!"

"He's been tried for involvement in anti-Soul activities…"

"And acquitted!"

"I'm not saying I believe it." But his undecided tone told me he didn't completely trust him either. Hell, I didn't completely trust him. But this was ridiculous.

"What was he doing in the city anyway?"

It struck me that I had no idea. I didn't think he had been at the Parliament, he had not taken up his positions there since the drowning. So what was he doing here? I called Melts Blue Ice.

"Cara speaking," a clear young voice answered, throwing me for a moment. Cara, Melts Blue Ice and Diane's perfect child, more Soul than a Soul. Endlessly patient, polite, pleasant and helpful. Only her eyes reminded you she was human. I wondered if she would snap one day, and all her latent humanity explode out of her. But I except I doubted if she had latent humanity. She was just Cara. Maybe she had never encountered a reason not to be.

"Hi Cara, it's Hungry Flame here, is your Dad around?"

"Hello Hungry Flame! So good to hear from you. Certainly, I'll just get him."

"Hungry Flame," Melts Blue Ice's familiar voice steadied me as always. "How are you?"

"Fine. I need some information from you. About Alex." I held my breath, knowing that he wouldn't lie to me, but knowing that he could withhold information if he thought it in Alex's best interest. If he doubted that I had Alex's best interest in mind.

"Ask away," he said, and I failed to hear any note of caution in his voice.

"What has Alex been doing, the past few weeks?"

"You mean apart from organizing his defence against baseless charges?"

"Yeah, apart from that. After he got out."

"I told him to lay low for a while. Even with the acquittal, people would be shy of him with it fresh in their memories. But he didn't come back to work, anyway."

"But why did he come back? Here, I mean."

I heard him sigh, as if I should know this.

"He came to be with you and Yash, if he could. To talk to you. That's it, as far as I know."

"Oh. Thanks, Melts Blue Ice."

"Any time, Hungry Flame."

"So?" Jackson pressed.

"He doesn't think he was involved in any sort of government work. He said he just came back to… to see me and Yash." I pulled the pendant out of my pocket and stared at it.

"What's with you two now anyway? I didn't think you were so hot on him til the other night."

I shivered and put in back in my pocket.

"He's a bastard. But he's my bastard. And he's Yash's Dad. She needs her dad."

"_She _needs him, hey?" Jackson muttered, going back to his readings.

I couldn't face the same old data anymore, and headed for a reclining seat.

"Wake me if you find anything?"

"I won't find anything," Jackson muttered, frustration creeping into his tone, "But if I do, you can hear it at the sit rep like everyone else." I paused to protest, but he cut me off, "We're going to want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed when we hit the ground. Get some rest."

***

Beebe woke me up gently.

"You were dreaming," he murmured, and I felt his eyes searching mine carefully, "Sounded like a bad dream."

"No, it's a good one, at the end." I stretched the slowness out of my limbs.

"You've had it before?"

"I have it every night," I murmured, checking the flight path. Almost there.

"Alex."

"Mmm." But he waited and, I sensed he wasn't going to let me get away with that. So I told him about the dream, the darkness, Alex walking towards me, the fear of pain so acute it was a pain itself, his touch draining all of that away, then the panic building from being close to him, so strong so that I would wake up.

"That's a good dream?"

"It's good in some parts..."

He nodded and made to walk back to his seat, til I caught his arm.

"So? You going to tell what you think?"

"You're not going to like what I think."

"Tell me anyway."

"_In the dream_," he emphasized, raising his eyebrows, I motioned for him to get on with it, "Alex doesn't do anything wrong. The pain, the panic, the fear comes from _you_. He takes it away, if you let him. Only you can't let him."

I thought about this, trying it on for size, looking at it from different angles.

"You're right," I said quietly, "I don't like what you think."

He said nothing and went back to his seat, getting ready for landing.

***

We landed at our outpost in Churchill in darkness. Another delay while we consolidated our intel, changed into arctic gear, and decided how to attack.

"We've got satellite images of two vehicles heading south from this area four days ago," Jackson explained, pointing to the map, and throwing the photos on top, "Freeway cameras can track them straight to us. They went back a different route yesterday."

I look at the satellite images showing the tracks, clear and crisp in the snow, disappearing into the snowstorm. And Alex with them.

"Do we know where they 're headed?" Barrett asked, the alpha team leader in field operations like this.

"There are a couple of possibilities. We can target them all." Jackson threw another photo onto the pile. "The most likely is this." An old military base, its bare concrete structures frozen to the ice sheet, at the foot of a frozen bay. "We've noted activity here before. It's possibly one of Hawthorne's bases."

Hawthorne…

There were no good photos of her, and few reliable descriptions. We didn't even know if it was her real name. That's why she was called the arctic fox. She haunted organized crime in the northern Soul-free zone. Especially anything particularly clever or brutish. And if she had been involved in the plane crash, she'd been organized for longer and on a much greater scale than we'd realized.

***

"Alright, listen up people," Barrett gathered the assembled Seekers into silence. "I know we're all champing at the bit to show these bitches what happens when you fuck with Seekers." Barrett was, of course, human, and took some getting used to for the Souls. But he produced results, and was hard but fair, despite his tough talk. "We're only going to get one chance here people. We need to do it right first time or we've lost it. We're going in hard, we're going in fast, surprise is our best advantage. Watch out for scouts, sentries, booby traps. Don't fuck it up. And don't forget we have civilians still unaccounted for. Not everyone is chicken feed." There were low grumblings about this. Barrett had fought with Alex during the wars, and knew he would not be involved, but the others were suspicious. I tried to ignore them, but it sharpened my determination to get to him first. "Beta team leaders, assemble your squads."

I stood, arms folded, in front of Jackson.

"Fine, you're coming, but you're keeping out of the way. Observer status only."

"Cover team," I negotiated, "there's nothing wrong with me. Use me properly."

"Rear guard. That's my final offer."

"Done."


	22. Chapter VI

6.

The helicopters landed as the last fitful gasps of the snowstorm were trailing away in the dim arctic light, the wind still turning everything below knee height into a fuzzy white blur. I had recognized the shape of the frozen bay from the map in Churchill, as we flew beside it, and we had landed behind the foothills that surrounded it.

The squad unloaded fast and silent, separating into teams and gearing up. I jogged up to Beebe, dividing up his gear with the point teams.

"Alex is the one that did the wrong thing here," I hissed at him, thinking about the dream, "you can't turn this on me."

"Would you focus on the job at hand?" he hissed back, tucking weapons into his webbing.

But I was. This was crucial to the job at hand. What if I didn't want to be saving this man? Then I saw Jackson making for me in a very unfriendly way and I scuttled back to rear guard team were I belonged, hands in the air above my head.

Then I saw them unloading the body bags, and all my doubts vanished instantly.

***

The point teams slipped into the foothills and disappeared, their white parkas merging seamlessly with the snow. At their signals, the other teams followed.

Out of the greyness and the drifting snow the buildings materialized, cutting the wind into streams. It all seemed to be happening agonizingly slowly for me. At the back of my mind, threatening to leap forward whenever I lost concentration, were images of Alex, beaten, unconscious, ice frosting his beard over the blood and bruising. And each time it took the point and cover team's whispered commentary, relayed to us over our ear pieces, to snap me back into the present.

"Radioactivity levels here are huge. Must have been some kind of nuclear place."

"Maybe a waste dump."

"Cover your nuts, people."

"Eggs too, ladies."

Then all chatter ceased as they came within hearing distance of the buildings, and not longer after we were standing in their tracks, pausing in the shelter of the wind. I stared at where the concrete corners of the walls had crumbled in the searing cold. Then, at a hand signal, we swarmed forward, taking over an enemy sentry disabled by point. But the Soul attending to him looked away for a sec and in a flash the sentry had freed one hand, stuffed something into his mouth and was writhing in the snow.

"Shit, make him puke!!"

It was too late. He was dead. The Soul attending to him looked in shock at the blood stained froth leaking from the man's throat.

"Don't worry about it. No loss there" a human said, slapping the Soul on the back comfortingly. I forced my lips to stay shut. The sentry could have information about Alex… now we had nothing. Nothing but a dead body.

"I'm moving up to cover," I whispered, and slipped forward before anyone could reply.

Point's commentary came through a background of static.

"We're in." They were moving deeper inside the building. I caught up to the cover team just as they entered the building too.

There were three point teams forcing the three entrances simultaneously. It seemed we had them by surprise, but they were amazingly fast; prepared for attacks, even surprise ones. There were only two prisoners taken alive so far, the rest vanished deeper into the building, point racing close behind. Or else they were spotted throughout the darks corridors, still bodies with matching beards of bloody froth trailing from their mouths.

"Flame? You there?" Montgomery's voice came over the comms.

"Right behind you. Alex?"

"We've got him. They… messed him up a bit, Flame."

I was running down the concrete corridor already. But he was _alive_, I reminded myself, trying to control my fear.

"Messed him up how?"

"He won't say."

"He won't say?"

"Beebe's with him now."

_He's alive he's alive he's alive_.

The concrete tunnels seemed to be endless, my anxiety doubling with every corner passed that led onto only more corridor.

"She said I was a fine physical specimen," I finally heard Alex say, a little way ahead. His voice sounded gutted, haunted, like a voice from a distant ghost. I had to feel him stiff and solid in my arms to know he was real. I pulled away and held his face in my hands, searching it for damage. Some bruising, some swelling… not too bad, considering. I began to breathe again.

"Are you alright?" I demanded quietly. _Really, really here_, was what I wanted to say, over and over.

He hesitated, then nodded slowly, looking at the ground. He looked drained, almost empty of life. But alive. Wonderfully alive.

"You frikkin idiot," I dropped his face and crossed my arms tight, trying to hide my panicked breathing til it returned to normal, "Yash needs her Dad too, you know."

It took him a long time to respond.

"It was a numbers game," he said finally, his voice starting to sound a little more real, his eyes beginning to focus, like he was remembering he was alive. "If I hadn't volunteered, they wouldn't have had enough to swap. I had to get you guys out of there. I had to, Flame."

"Bloody hero." I punched his shoulder lightly, resentfully, "Don't do that to me again."

Jackson returned from his sweep and leaned in close to my ear as he holstered his gun.

"You're not going to faint on me, are you?"

My glare should have burnt his skin. He must have had some kind of force field. I moved them back to Alex, scanning for any sign of torture. His wrists were bloody and bruised, cut on the angles. But his hands weren't swollen. He'd been tied tight with something like wire for a long time, his arms somewhere above his heart. Probably above his head. But that was the worst injury I could see on him. Maybe there was more under his clothes? But the Healers had left him to Beebe. I pulled at his blanket, and before he tightened it round himself again I saw he was wearing Jackson's parka. And that's it. So they'd tied him up, naked, and just left him there? Or maybe needles? Electrocution? Then I remembered how in the store they had gone for mental suffering rather than physical.

"What have they done to you?" I murmured. But he didn't respond.

"Do you wanna give us a statement?" Jackson asked, stylus poised above his hand held. Alex nodded, focusing on the present again from wherever he had drifted to. "From the top, if you please. We swapped you in, then what?"

"They recognized me."

"From the plane crash?"

He nodded.

"They knew I wasn't a Seeker. They were going to kill me anyway, but they brought me here."

"Why?"

He didn't reply for an age.

"For fun." That weird, distant voice, like one from beyond the grave. It was freaking me out. Jackson studied him, waiting for more, but didn't get it.

"Alright, what can you tell me about the set up here?"

This was easier, Alex's tension relaxing slightly. "At the store, there were eight of them; 4 male, 2 female, and 2, I never figured out. Here, I don't know how many."

"But Hawthorne was here?"

Alex took an age to respond.

"Yes."

Montgomery's voice came in over the comms.

"All sweeps completed. No sign of life." I thought of all the poisoned bodies littering the corridors, and wondered how many more surrounded us in the darkness.

"Hawthorne?" Jackson asked, unbuttoning his bullet-proof vest.

"She's gone. There's no sign of her," Montgomery replied.

"Fuck," Jackson muttered, like it was some kind of personal insult.

I looked at him, puzzled. How could she be gone? The place was surrounded by Seekers on one side and ocean on the other. There was nowhere for her to go. A retching sound brought my gaze back to Alex. He looked completely exhausted, and even Jackson seemed to notice.

"Give us her face and we can do the rest later, alright?" he said softly, moving on to the prisoners.

I left Alex with the facial reconstruction officer, creating a likeness of Hawthorne. He was one of the few that had seen her and lived to give a description. By the looks of it, it was going to be a thorough description too; he must have got a good look at her. But getting responses from him was slow, hard work. I went looking for Beebe but found Montgomery, photographing stacks of Russian weaponry.

"It's an old nuclear submarine base," he said, glancing at me between shots, "Maybe that's how they got away. You should see the lower levels, it's amazing."

But I didn't want to see the lower levels. I wanted to get Alex out of there now.

***

The massive cargo helicopters landed and we piled in. Alex insisted on walking in himself, but once inside the Healer made him lie down on a bed strapped to the curving wall. Alex sat up as soon as the Healer was concentrating elsewhere, his blanket still clutched around him. I wondered why he was resisting going to sleep when he seemed to need it so much. He seemed to be holding onto something, with the last of his strength. I longed for him to relax and rest.

I tied the pendant round his neck and his fingers touched it automatically. His eyes, slowly lifted to mine, and they looked… hurt.

"I gave that to you," I said, trying to sound firm, "for a reason. You can't just give it back."

He took my hand and touched the ring on my finger.

"You can't just throw this away either then."

"I know that now," I said softly. I got him to lie down again and he closed his eyes. His tense muscles betrayed that he was not sleeping, but I knew he wanted me to think he was. I kissed his head and left him, moving forward to where the other Seekers were settling in.

"Beebe?" I ventured, and he came over, "What did they do to him?"

He sighed, grimacing.

"I know, I know: patient-doctor confidentiality and all that," I muttered, but kept my pleading eyes on him.

"He really hasn't told me much. Whatever it was, Hawthorne did it personally. That is one psycho bitch. And I would know."

"I can't see, I can't see anything on him…?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it wasn't physical," but his voice didn't sound sure. There were plenty of physical things you could do that didn't leave a mark. "The Healers said he's ok to go home from their point of view."

"They didn't heal his wrists…?"

"No. He didn't want them to touch him. He didn't want the No Pain either. Maybe he didn't think he'd be alive at this point, and the pain's reminding him that he is…? I don't know. He's not talking."

"He, um, he's sort of had experience with torture before…"

"You mean Falling Smoke."

I nodded. Trust Beebe to do his research.

"Is this related?"

He sighed.

"Could be. I don't know. I don't think so, though."

"So I just… take him home?"

"Until we know what she did to him we won't know how to make it better. Just hang in there, stick with him."

That I could do.


	23. Chapter VII

7.

It was snowing when we landed, and kept it up the whole trip back to the house. Alex had gone distant again, and I let him be. As the taxi pulled into drive, a familiar silhouette emerged from the small house next door.

"George!" I cried, running to him.

"Fine welcome I get," he muttered, hugging me back, "Turn up and there's no one here."

Alex eased out of the taxi slowly and pulled out my bag.

"Yash was with Margie," I explained, keeping my arm around him.

"I figured that out eventually. How you been. _Where_'ve you been?"

"Haaa," not a story for the front lawn, "The arctic."

"Lucky you," George said, as if it were nothing, but his eyes had seen Alex's stiffness and noted his silence, and I was immensely relieved that he was here too and I didn't have to deal with Alex alone.

"Let's go get Yash."

I went to knock on Margie's door, then noticed Alex had stayed by the curb, separated from us by a diaphanous screen of falling snow, George waiting with him. I didn't get it. I couldn't understand him at all. I was dying to see Yash. Surely he was too? But I had no time to ponder this as small feet pounded down the hallway, the door flew open, and Yash was in my arms.

"You found Daddy?" she said straight away, cheek pressed into mine.

"Yeah, baby, he's right there."

She pulled me down the lawn towards him, hopping through the deepening snow, Margie following at a quiet distance. Yash paused in front of him, waving shyly at George.

"Hi Daddy," she said, looking at him hopefully, but sensing his distance, "I missed you."

"Missed you too, baby," he whispered, and finally held out his hand to her. I looked at the lone hand in disappointment. That was it? Not even a hug? But she took it with a smile, content, and led us back to our house.

Entering my own house, with my daughter and husband in tow, George as an added bonus, and the snow cocooning us inside with the glow of the lights, I felt instantly cheered, as if the worries of the outside world couldn't touch us here, as if you could shed them as easily as your coat. I flashed a grin at Alex and he even tried to smile back, and shivered despite the central heating. It was only on standby, but it still wasn't cold.

"I don't ever want to be cold again," he murmured, turning the thermostat up on the way past, his coat hook hanging empty. He was still wearing the Seeker parka he'd been issued in Churchill.

"Come here, I'll warm you up," I said, reaching for him. But my arms never touched him. He turned to ice, hard and still and pale. "Alex, are you-"

But the stiffness of his body held me away as he made for the bathroom.

"I'm just not feeling too good," he managed before the door shut.

Yash looked at me as we listened to him retch.

"Daddy's sick."

"Yeah, sweetheart, he is."

George filled the kettle, and I settled on the sofa, Yash climbing into my lap and pressing into me. I held her close, trying to make sense of Alex in my head.

But it was not like any sickness I could understand.

Alex kept himself covered, wrapped, in layers of clothes, like he could never be warm enough, like he hated the touch of the air on his skin. In the arctic, it was understandable, normal. But here, it was odd. It was winter, but it was just not that cold.

He would stare into space for hours, lost in thought, and only come back to the present slowly, blinking, as if deciding whether this was real. I would hold his hands quietly until he came back. His hands were about the only thing he didn't mind me touching.

We lay separately in our bed at night, like he was pretending I wasn't there. I could sort of understand that. I didn't want to be touched either after the Kimberley. Only he didn't have a mark on him…

He would jerk awake from his nightmares, lie there stiff for a moment as if he couldn't escape it even in waking, then steal into the bathroom and retch. The first time, I had tried to go after him, and found the bathroom door locked against me.

"Alex?" I called softly, but there was no response. I sat by the door, leaning on the wall and waited. When he came out, he walked straight past me and went to bed. I could tell when I wasn't wanted. So after that I let him go, and waited silently in bed, pretending he hadn't woken me, pretending I wasn't listening to him suffer. It happened every night.

Each day I looked for improvement, and he did begin to talk more normally with Margie and George, play with Yash rather than just hold her or watch her play. With me, there was nothing. George often kept him company during the day, but during the evenings took to leaving us alone together as much as he could, as if he could force us into intimacy by default. But when we were alone, Alex reverted to the same, stiff, distant ghost.

"He's scaring me," I told Beebe one day, hanging in the doorway to his office, unwilling to step through and make my worries real.

"You're worried he'll hurt you?"

"No. Not really. Well, maybe. It's just that… I know what he's capable of, if he's pushed. When he's not pushed, I know he's fine. But when he's being strange… I don't know anymore. How close is he? How will I know when he'll crack? What if Yashie…" I shook my head. That was crazy. He would never hurt Yash, no more than I could.

"I'm more worried he's hurting himself," I went on, "Inside. He won't talk to me."

"He won't talk to anyone. You'd know all about that. Must run in the family."

"Beebe…" I pressed my hands to my face. He sighed, pushing away from the desk and meeting my eyes for a moment.

"I've got no magic answer for you, Hungry Flame."

And that was all I had. Nothing.

***

I thought over the conversation that night in the shower. Alex visited Beebe every week, but I knew nothing of what went on between them. He was there that evening, so I took the chance to shower while Yash finished her homework. When Alex wasn't in the house, we were released from his rigid presence. I could try and relax in the pounding hot water. But I never really drew free from the shadow of worry that hung over us.

I jumped, seeing a figure from the corner of my eye through the haze; Alex leaning against the wall, watching me through the shower's steam.

"Oh, you scared me," I whispered, "I thought you were with Beebe."

"Beebe says I've been scaring you," he replied, unmoving.

"No it's just you were standing there like…" I didn't want to say what it reminded me of. I didn't want to remember.

"You're home early," I turned off the shower and he gave me my towel.

"It's warm in here," he murmured, and I felt his eyes still on me as I dried myself hurriedly, the towel slipping out of my tight fingers as I tugged it too hard, trying to wrap it around me.

"Yeah it is, huh," I tried a little laugh, but it rang false. He slowly pulled the towel out of my hands and wrapped it firmly round my shoulders, and his hands came to rest just below them, holding my arms tight. His silence and intensity were scaring me, but at the same time there was a thrill at having him touch me. _Voluntarily_ touch me. I could cope with a little fear for that.

He bent his head down and kissed the back of my neck, his lips hot even on the shower warmed skin.

He pulled at the towel at the back on my neck to reveal more of my back and shoulders, and kissed a line down my insertion scar. I wanted desperately to hold him, to turn and feel him beneath my fingers, in my arms… but his hands held me rigidly away from him, and my hands could only clutch frustratedly at towel instead. _Why wouldn't he let me in_?

"Don't give up on me," he whispered tightly, "I know I've been acting strange, but... just please don't give up on me."

And then he was gone, and I'd never felt so alone.


	24. Chapter VIII

8.

I watched the prisoner from the other side of the one way mirror. He had tried to kill himself at every opportunity, which meant the Healers had kept us away from him til now. He tried stabbing himself, choking on his food, breathing in his water, hanging himself with his sheets, throttling himself with his clothes… Finally they'd worked out a strict system of keeping him alive: feeding and watering him intravenously while he was strapped to a bed, keeping the temperature too warm to need sheets, keeping his room as bare as bare. Finally they were happy enough to let us talk to him. I wondered what he wanted to die so badly for. It scared me that I couldn't understand. I felt like if could get that, it would unlock Alex for me somehow. But I was getting nowhere.

"You're not going to-" Jackson whispered in my ear. I jerked away from him, glaring at him in a very un-fainting way.

"I swear if you say that one more time!"

"Just checking," he said, having the gall to sound defensive, "How am I supposed to know when you will and when you won't."

"I'm working on it, alright? Beebe knows I-"

I shut up too late.

"Beebe knows about this?" Jackson said, too quietly, "What does he know?"

I shrugged unhappily.

"Everything," I whispered. Jackson was silent, stunned.

"It's nice that you told Beebe and you didn't tell me…"

I said nothing, having said too much already.

"…I'm your partner …"

"Jackson-"

… and you don't even_ like _Comforters…"

"Alright." I shuddered, ignoring the memories and forcing out just the words.

"Alex broke my fingers in the Kimberley. And my wrist. He thought another Soul had been implanted in me, and he was trying to find out what they had done with me."

"He tortured you."

I shrugged an assent.

"Was he frikkin psycho?" There was a heat in Jackson's voice that didn't show in his silent, still, body language.

"I don't know. He seemed pretty calm at the time."

"Jeeesus." His body was beginning to betray his agitation, tensing up, as his voice wound hotter, "That's bad. That's frikkin wrong. And you're back with him?"

I gave him an imploring look, "Look at him…"

"Just because he's a bit sad does mean you have to forget about what he did to you."

"I haven't forgotten. And he's not 'a bit sad', he was _tortured_…"

"Yeah, and there wasn't a mark on him," Jackson muttered.

I knew that made no difference. The worst part was not the pain, it was what was going on in your head. That I must somehow have deserved this, or why else would they let it continue? The thought that I wouldn't be able to hold Yash ever again… if he had done it under general anaesthetic I would have felt the same way about it.

But Jackson wasn't done, "Don't you think it's strange? He's the only one that survives, they take him north – for what? They don't even touch him, then they leave him behind. Alive. Why, to slow us down?"

Doubts flittered around. How did I know what he did when he was in the bathroom? The door was always locked. What he did all day when I was at work? But I chased these thoughts away. I knew him, and I knew he was hurting. That wasn't an act. Jackson sighed at the stubborn tilt of my jaw.

"Look, it's your life," he shook his head, "Just promise me, if he ever touches you again, you'll get out of there straight away." His eyes wouldn't let me go. He was deadly serious. So many arguments raised themselves in my head; he was Yashie's father, I couldn't just leave him… but I knew what he wanted me to say.

"Ok."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Alright."

He let me go first into the interview room.

"Seeker Hungry Flame, Seeker Jackson. What is your name?"

The prisoner stared fixedly at the table.

"Where is your family?"

There was a slight flicker, then nothing. We tried waiting him out, talking about the case without him, getting obvious details wrong, making Hawthorne out to be a ninny, but he gave us nothing.

"Try him again tomorrow. But really he's a mental case," Jackson sighed as we had a coffee break.

"Let's go onto the woman then."

The second prisoner met our eyes nervously. She had not tried to kill herself so far, but Hawthorne's people had tried to kill her as they escaped. And almost succeeded. She had been recovering under Healer care with a constant Seeker guard.

"You were found in Hawthorne's base-" Jackson began.

I'm not a fighter," she said straight away, like she couldn't wait to talk to us. She flashed a half smile to go with a short nervous laugh. We were stunned, still getting over the difference from the last interviewee. "That's why they tried to kill me. Only fighters get the pills."

"What were you doing there?"

"I… I don't know. They took me there. It wasn't my choice."

I remembered the body in the burnt out car. Someone for trying things out on. I wondered if she guessed why they took her.

"She takes people sometimes. Sometimes for fighters. Sometimes… I don't know."

This much we knew.

"Who is this?" Jackson asked.

She glanced at the photo of the other prisoner.

"Daniel. His name's Daniel."

"He's a fighter."

"Yes."

"We have him in custody too. But he's not speaking."

"No, they won't speak. They'd rather die than give up the others."

"What makes you so different?"

"Like I said, I'm not a fighter."

We milked every detail we could out her, stopping every few hours for meal breaks. She was endlessly cooperative. She hadn't seen much of the base, but she didn't appear to try to hold anything back.

"What happens to me now?" she asked hesitantly when we could think of no more to ask her.

"We'll check out your story," Jackson said, his voice flat with fatigue, "If it's determined you're not a threat to society, you'll go free. Meantime, you stay with us."

"I… I have a kid. Back home. Is there some way to get a message to him?" she whispered. I couldn't answer, and left Jackson to tell her no. Suspects under major threat to society charges had no communication rights til their stories were assessed.

***

Jackson was silent as he drove me home that night. I was lost in thought too. How could we know she was telling the truth? I guessed a Seeker implantation would tell us, but I didn't want to be the first to suggest it. Seems no one did. The other prisoner looked like an unavoidable implantation case; it seemed cruel to have to do it to a cooperative suspect. Jackson pulled up in front of my house and I said goodnight, but he got out too.

"What are you doing?" I asked, bemused.

"I'm walking you home." The heat was gone, and calm, cool, collected Jackson spoke.

"Why?" I said, stopping in the middle of the lawn. He'd already driven me home. I could manage the lawn.

"In case your husband is on a bender and wants to pummel you tonight." He rolled his eyes. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

I bit my lip, then walked on. What could it hurt? He would see Alex reading a book, or watching television, see he'd wasted his time and leave.

"Hey," I called softly as I opened the front door. A hand waved distractedly from the lounge. Alex was reading on the sofa.

"Yash in bed?" I asked, kissing him on the forehead. He nodded, and only I would notice how he tensed at my touch.

"Hi, Alex," Jackson said, his smile too wide and fixed. Alex looked up surprised.

"Hi."

"Have a beer with me, Alex?" Jackson asked, already one hand in the fridge.

"Ah… sure."

Jackson gave me a significant look.

"Alex is going to have a beer," he said, handing him the cold sweating bottle. I looked heavenward for strength.

"Alex is having a beer with you because he thinks he has to be polite. I don't have to be polite with you," I said pointedly, crossing my arms and looking at the door.

"Why do I get the feeling I've just walked into the middle of something?" Alex asked quietly, watching us.

"Don't let me _make_ you have a beer, Alex," Jackson said, all fake friendliness.

Alex looked at him lengthily, then cracked open his beer and drank. Jackson did likewise. They drank in silence, and as soon as Jackson was close enough to done I dragged him to the door.

"Thanks _so_ much for dropping by."

"Any time, Bright Eyes."

I sat on the sofa and stared in the direction of the dusty, untouched piano. Alex watched me til I couldn't stand it anymore and gave in.

"I told him you broke my wrist," I told him.

"Why do let him bully you into telling him things like that," he sighed.

"I didn't let him bully me into it! He's my partner, he needs to know what's going on in my head."

"What is going on in your head?" he put the book aside, "What do I have to do to make you tell me?"

_Likewise_, I thought, but didn't dare speak about Hawthorne. Not while he was acting almost normal. _Kimberley, we're talking about the Kimberley_… my mind skittered around the topic in its usual avoidance dance, but I waited it out, holding my breath til I could get a sentence through.

"How do I know you won't do it again?" I whispered. He didn't reply. "What would you do? Same situation, next week?"

"I don't know." His voice was very quiet, as if this disappointed him too.

"You don't know?" I stared at him, waiting, but nothing came, "You don't know."

"I guess I'd be more willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," he offered.

I didn't know what to say. It was hardly poetry. He wasn't even saying he wouldn't do it again… he wasn't even sure, after everything. This was what my heart was hopelessly, irrevocably tied to.

"But it's not going to happen," he went on, "No one implants anymore."

I shook my head, laughing through tears.

"What if it changes? Every time we go to a Soul-free zone, there's a risk."

"Then don't come with me next time." He sounded so calm. It was infuriating.

"What, and just let the next Hawthorne kill you?" He turned to ice at the word and I cursed myself for bringing her up. "You know I couldn't do that," I said softly.

"Tell me what I can do then," he answered finally, his eyes not yet ready to meet mine, still in that place where Hawthorne took him, but fighting to stay with me, fighting to come back.

"Don't go to the Soul-free zones anymore. Don't deal with these people," my eyes begged the side of his face unashamedly. "We have everything we want here. Every time you go you put that at risk." But even as I said it, I thought of Bhask, Dorsey… but I had to preserve what I could.

Finally he nodded. I imagined hugging him, because I knew in real life he wouldn't tolerate it. I patted his hand instead. Meagre compensation. He didn't react, still staring into space. I went to bed alone.

***

Jackson was waiting for me as I drove into Seeker Headquarters the next morning, sitting on the barrier at the end of the parking space, with his elbows on his knees. I sat almost opposite him on the car's bonnet and waited, wrapping my coat around me.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night," he started, "It's just that, these things , they can get out of hand." I had the feeling he was taking about some thing in particular. He took a deeper breath.

"I wasn't there for Echoes. He was my partner, I should have been there. No one even knew how bad Green was... well, at least I didn't anyway. I'm not into that… family stuff." I listened, staring at the ground. I hadn't ever thought about Jackson's involvement that way. No wonder he was so keen on blaming someone he'd have pinned it on me. "But I don't want to lose another partner."

He wanted to be there for me. I didn't know that I wanted him there, but he needed to try.

"Alright?"

I nodded shortly, and we went in to start the day.

But Jackson didn't settle at his desk like he normally did. After a while I went looking for him, and heard him inside Beebe's office. I leant on the wall, outside the open door, listening in, invisibly.

"You still could have told me!" Jackson, quietly angry, "Something at least. She's _living _with the bastard. You should have told me something."

Beebe sighed. "She couldn't handle it."

I bridled silently. I was handling it.

"The last thing she needed was to be reminded about it every 5 seconds with people asking her how she is."

"Give me a break. I'm not_ people_. I'm her partner."

"It's best she told you herself anyway. She couldn't have done that a month ago. She's getting there."

I walked away. I didn't want to hear where I was. Or wasn't. As far as I was concerned, I was at the only place it was possible to be at.

***

The second interview with Hawthorne's fighter was as unproductive as the first. If anything, he was more relaxed, having realized that Jackson's noisy threats were only bluffs.

"Leaves us no option, does it?" Jackson sighed, closing the door between us and the prisoner. Seeker Implantation. Beebe was going in.

We all travelled up to the Adult Implantation Centre. No one liked the idea, but we had come to a dead end. It seemed to be the only way.

"They know how to fight," Jackson said as Beebe sat on the gurney and took off his top, "They'll give you the worst memories they can find, try and throw you. You sure you're ready?"

Beebe nodded grimly. Jackson shook his hand, Montgomery and I hugged him, and he lay down on his stomach as they wheeled him away through the swing doors, into the surgical section. We stared at the closed doors in silence.

"This could take a while," Jackson said, turning to me, "You go home, I'll ring you once we're getting anything."

I escaped gratefully. I wasn't only eager to get out of the Healing Centre, I was eager to get home; back to Alex.

A cold spell had settled over the city, deep and still. The snow lost its freshness and became dry, dessicated, coated in grime from the soulless wind. Alex had responded accordingly, drawing deeper within himself. He would answer questions, go through the motions of the day, but it was like the light inside burned lower and lower the colder it grew. I was glad I could be home to watch him, and with Yash on school holidays, I didn't have to focus exclusively on his ghost-like semi-presence.

He sat on the couch one night, and I sat opposite him. He didn't even seem to notice. I got to thinking somehow about that Alex that had pulled my gun on me, driven me to the hospital in the middle of a Soul city, slept opposite Bhask and me on the sofa. The two sofas were set up just the same way in this house. I remember lying there, Bhask snuggled up to me, pretending to sleep, wandering if this strange man would shoot me, take my child in the night, or if I'd wake up in the morning and find he'd disappeared, like he'd been some kind of dream.

He seemed like a dream now, like he might at any moment just disappear; I'd wake up and find he'd thought himself into non-existence. The thought scared me more than I could say. But I didn't know what to do to make him stay. He didn't respond to anything, and everything I tried only seem to make it worse. Stick with him, Beebe had said. So that's what I did.


	25. Chapter IX

9.

He answered the phone without thinking about it. None of us thought about it. Yash and I were mixing cookie dough in the kitchen, the afternoon light deceptively warm. The phone was next to Alex, so he answered. He listened for a while, then dropped the phone and walked out, his face empty.

"Alex!" I shouted, grabbing the phone, and staring at the open front door. It was Jackson left hanging on the other end of the line. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"I was just asking if he wanted to come down for this. Beebe's back and we got a lead on Hawthorne. Might be a good one. Maybe we can get her this time. Just wanted his input, cross reference-"

I dropped the phone despite hearing his distant voice still talking to me.

"Yashie! Get your coat. We're going for a walk!"

It seemed to take an age to feed her arms into the coat, make the zips connect, stuff on her hat, but I knew it would go no faster even if Alex had not just turned into a zombie and left. I pulled Yash out the door and stopped, scanning the street.

He was gone.

He was nowhere. The street was an empty dirty grey, the dark, bare skeletons of trees the only inhabitants. It was too cold for anyone to be out. _Think, Flame, think_… I stared at the ground, trying to figure out where he would have gone, then focused on a smooth space in the snow, cutting across the treads of the other prints, in the shape of a foot. A sock print. I raised my eyes and followed the trail across the yard and down the footpath. _Alex's trail_. He wasn't even wearing shoes.

I pulled Yashie after me, following it as quickly as I could recognize it, then pulling her up into my arms to follow it more quickly. The freezing air spiked into my lungs with each breath, filling me with cold. _Alex will be hating this,_ I thought, and it spurred my panic on. Then we got to the intersection, where the salt had cut through the snow, and the bitumen lay bare and black. Here the tracks disappeared; a few snowy footprints like an inverse reflection of the footpath trail, then nothing. I had to wait for a car to pass, then jogged over to the opposite curb, but his prints did not reemerge. I backtracked and stared at his last traces, glancing again around the empty streets, feeling the panic rising higher and higher. Had he got into a car? A taxi? A friend? I knew I had to check the other curbs for tracks, but fear gripped my heart for a moment, and I stood paralyzed. Then the scream of tyres on bitumen broke through the rigidity, and I ran flat out towards the sound. As I came round the corner I took in the scene; a car, red, I noted automatically, the same that had passed earlier, stopped in the middle of the street, on a slight angle where the body had skidded. And Alex, standing in the street likewise, both equally still, tensed, the vapour of their respective breathing the only movement.

I let Yashie slide to the ground and grabbed him, trying to pull him to the curb, off the street, but I had no chance against his unmoving strength.

"Come on Alex," I begged as the car door opened, and the driver emerged, shaking, "Move!"

"I didn't hit him," the driver gasped, holding onto the car for support and crabbing along beside it towards us, "He just walked straight out. He didn't even look."

"It's cold out here," Alex murmured, gazing at his wet socks caked in snow, and brushing lightly at the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

"It is, baby, come on, let's go home where it's warm," I replied, low and urgent, and his feet began to move. We were still only a block away when I heard the Seeker car pull up, the red car still trembling in the middle of the road, but I kept walking. I kept Alex walking, Yash trailing along on my other side, and I left all the backward glances to her.

"Flame!" Jackson came jogging up behind.

"Under control," I said tightly over my shoulder, "I'm taking Alex home. No one's hurt. Go get the driver's statement." And for once, he did as I said without argument.

I locked the front door behind us and went straight to the bath room, Alex automatically turning the heating up on the way past the thermostat. I turned on both the shower and the bath taps, letting the room fill with steam before I set about peeling Alex's freezing, soggy socks off, stripping off the layers of flannel, and easing him into the bath. Yashie knelt by his back and soaped it methodically, round and round. Alex just sat there and stared at the water rising around him.

"Mummy," Yash said, breaking my attention away from him, "the door." And then I could hear the thunderous knocking of a Seeker at the door. The type of Seeker who wouldn't go away if ignored. Jackson.

"You stay here, ok?" I said, looking from Yash, to Alex, and back, "I'll be right back."

"What," I said, as short as possible, yanking the door open exactly three inches and no more.

"You wanna tell me what's going on here?" Jackson asked after looking at me a moment.

"I don't know. Alex just walked out. He was like some kind of zombie. He just…" I gestured helplessly.

"Where was he going?"

"I don't know. How the hell should I know? He just walked out."

"You wanna let me in? Let me see him."

I wiped a stray hair across my forehead with my wrist, smearing the bathroom steam.

"He's in the bath." It felt so hopeless. Why did I feel so hopeless? Jackson watched me a moment more, then nodded, turning away.

"Alright." I heard him say as I closed and locked the door and tripped back to the bathroom, turning off the shower, sliding down the tiles and sitting on the floor. Alex hadn't moved, except to turn the bath taps off. That was something, at least. Yash was still chasing soap suds around his back.

"Enough soap, sweetheart, how about some rinsing now," I said to her softly, leaning my head back against the tiles, and she immediately obliged, scooping up the warm water and watching it run down his back. I saw his lips move slightly into the hint of a smile.

"Warm, huh?" I whispered. He lifted a hand out the water and I jumped reflexively, flashing a short, apologetic smile at the floor as he covered my hand.

"I'm scaring you."

"Yeah," I whispered, thinking, _in so many ways_.

"It's still on your mind, isn't it?"

"What?"

"The Kimberley."

My tongue froze, seeming to grow and fill my mouth, but I had to keep him talking. Talking was an improvement.

"I guess."

His fingers laced into mine, and I saw the wire wounds around his wrist were almost healed. It took so long, without Heal.

"Where were you going?" I whispered, feeling the steam coat my face with a layer of wet.

"Just… away," he answered, and I glanced at him, scared that the distance in his voice meant he was leaving again.

I reached out my other hand and rubbed Icefire's pedant, hanging damp between his collarbones. He smiled gently, and I felt him returning again.

"I know," he said softly. He met my eyes briefly, and I felt hope start to flicker again within me.

My phone rang, cutting my thoughts in half.

"Beebe wants to speak with you," I said after listening.

He out his hand out for the phone, and I stared at it for half a second.

"No, sorry, he's out the front. Should I…?"

"Let him in," Alex said, kissing Yashie's head as he got out of the bath and dried himself roughly, wrapping the towel around his waist. I was halfway out the door when his hand caught my arm.

"Wait." He pulled me into his arms, holding me, and it took a moment for me to realize he had really done this, and get over the surprise enough to relax a little.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered into my hair, and I found my arms could move around him too and hug him back.

"Ok," was all I could manage, then I grinned to feel Yashie's little arms trying to hug our legs and not be left out. Alex lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom to get changed. I gathered myself and unlocked the front door, where Beebe waited patiently.

"You ok?" he asked, without moving anything but his eyes. I nodded.

"He's in the bedroom," I said softly, and he slipped past me into the warmth of the house, "Wait. How are you doing?" He'd just been de-implanted… I couldn't begin to think what was going on in his head.

He paused a moment and gave me a quick grimace.

"Getting there."

Behind us, Jackson was sitting on the porch steps, his back to me. Even now he didn't turn. I chewed my lip for a moment, then grabbed my parka off its hook and shut the door gently behind me. I wrapped it round me tight and sat next to him, gazing out at the Seeker cars waiting on the street, the snow covered yards sleeping beyond. He slowly put his arm around my shoulders and I rested into him, laying my head on his shoulder. Together in silence, we watched it start to snow.


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Can't I sleep with you tonight?" Yash asked as both Alex and I put her to bed.

"No, honey," I murmured, kissing her head, "You'll be fine here." But her anxiety was not for herself.

"What if Daddy goes away again?" she asked me, and I couldn't answer immediately. It was too close to my own fears. And she had asked me, ignoring Alex, as if she wasn't quite sure he was really with us anyway. This too, I recognized in my own thoughts. But Alex rallied to the call.

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," he told her firmly, hugging her tight, and she smiled to hear him sound so much like his old self. His kissed her cheek and waited while I said goodnight, then he walked with me to our room.

And this time, when he lay down, he didn't stare at the ceiling, rigid, pretending I wasn't there. He looked at me. He studied my face from only inches away, and I hardly dared to breathe.

"You have no idea how much I hate you being afraid," he whispered, drawing his fingertips down my cheek softly. I leant forward infinitesimally slowly and his lips kissed mine so lightly it was like being kissed by a ghost. I hesitated before kissing him back just as lightly; his cheeks, his lips, his neck… pausing between each one, waiting for him to turn to stone before pushing my luck again, my heart in my throat.

"Right now," I whispered, pulling back a breath, not daring to push my luck any further, "I'm so afraid I'll kiss you one too many times, and I'll lose you, you'll go away, you'll freeze me out. I'm so afraid of losing you."

He rested his forehead on mine, and his hands reached up and cupped the base of my neck. My eyes closed in the bliss of his touch.

"There was a time I never thought I'd hear you say that," he whispered back, "I didn't think you could ever feel that way again."

"Yeah," I breathed, fighting back memories, "Me neither."

"But you do," he said, his voice strangely fervent, "How?"

He pulled back to search my face, his eyes burning with the urgency of his question. I could see he needed to know for his own sake, to give him hope that he could get past his own experiences, to let him know that he would live. His need was more important than my fear; I tried to answer as best I could.

"I had to run, at first. I just… I couldn't 've survived otherwise." I figured he felt the same, which was unusual for him. Normally he wanted to face things, deal with them. Here he seemed to be running, my favourite way of coping.

But not tonight. Tonight he was _here_.

"But?" he prompted softly.

"But it's so _tiring_, running all the time. And, after a while, the need to live just, fought through."

I could see him thinking this over. I had no idea if he was there yet. Maybe this was all too early for him. I hated that I had no idea where he was in his head.

"You never forget," he said quietly.

"No. No, you never forget," I said with effort, "But you find, after a while, that you can live."

"I want to live," he said so softly I couldn't really be sure he'd said it at all. But that was as far as I could go. Any further and he would push me into difficult areas, disturb the delicate balance I had worked out that let me be with him. But he didn't push. It seemed it was enough. He wanted to stay. We both did. It had to be enough. He let me wrap my arms around him tighter, pressing into his warmth, reminding myself he was still here. Somewhere. It was enough.


End file.
